Author & Illustrator
by samuraistar
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a song. It was heard by a writer and an artist at the same time. The artist was inspired to draw beautiful pictures of a girl she didn't remember. The writer tried to figure out why.
1. Pas de Duck

Hey, everybody! samuraistar is BAAAAAAAACK with another story!

Okay, I wrote this a year or two ago after seeing Princess Tutu all the way through (once or twice, cough-cough) but never got around to uploading it (I think I got distracted by stuff). Anyway, I'm going through a dry spell right now, so I'm hoping this will wake up my inner muse. I'm trying to get her to help me start working on Wreck-It Ralph.

Yes, I'm just now getting into Wreck-It Ralph, two years later. :S My inner fangirl marches to her own beat. I've been watching it nonstop since I got the DVD and yes, I ship the crap out of Hero's Cuties! (That's what I'm trying to work on)

I'd also like to explain that the song I use throughout the story is one I was hooked on at the time I wrote it, so if you don't like the song, you should just turn right around now. If not, then please come on in!

So without any further of my usual ado, (I talk WAY too much) here is my one and only Princess Tutu story! Hope you enjoy it!

DISCLAIMER: Nothing here is owned by me! You hear me? NOTHING!

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_"Now everybody get out! Because I am having cereal!" - _Winston Bishop, _New Girl_, season 1

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**Chapter 1: Pas de Duck**  
_If I die young, bury me in satin  
Lay me down on a bed of roses  
Sink me in the river at dawn  
Send me away with the words of a love song_

Fakir glanced up from his tablet from his place on the dock of his lakehouse; the little duck so near and dear to his heart was dancing happily on the shore, pouring all her ballet training into the expression of her delight at the song they were hearing on the old-fashioned radio. He loved seeing how happy she looked when she danced; it made him smile all the time and inspired his writing.

It seemed like such a long time since he'd swept her off her feet at the bottom of the lake. Even though Drosselmeyer had named it the Lake of Despair, it turned out to be the place where Duck and Fakir had found the strength to rescue and support the prince they both cared about; through their feelings for him and for each other, they had enabled him to regain his true self and become the champion for his princess. Fakir could only imagine how hard it must have been for Duck to let him go like that and it made his heart ache in her behalf. Partly from the original story and partly from what she'd told him herself, he knew how much she loved Mytho and the agony she endured as she shouldered the burden of her role as Princess Tutu.

_'That story's over now,'_ he thought as he took a look at his paper, _'It's time to start a new one.'_ He turned his chair to face Duck so he could watch her while he wrote.

"Quack!" the little duck said as she fluttered over to him, "Quack, quack!" She raised her wings overhead, twirled them around each other, and held one out to Fakir in the ballet's invitation to dance. He chuckled.

"I'd love to," he said warmly as he stood up and made a sweeping ballet-style bow.

What neither of them knew was that while the song inspired them to dance, it was inspiring someone else as well—someone with a kind heart and imaginative talent, a promising student at the palatial academy in Gold Crown Town.

An art student.

The melody and its bittersweet lyrics put images in her mind that were beautiful yet somewhat different from the song's intended message; nevertheless, she knew when her gift was at work inside of her and she always obeyed its command. It was part of what made her such a good artist.

Heeding its call once again, Malen stopped what she was working on, turned to a blank page on her large sketchpad, and began to draw.

_'Lay me down on a bed of roses,'_ she thought as she drew rose after rose after rose.

* * *

In the magical land of stories, where the heroes go to have their Happily Ever Afters, Princess Rue opened her eyes with excitement.

"It's working," she breathed and turned to her beloved prince, "Mytho, your Dream Charm is working!"

"That's wonderful!" he smiled and held her hands, "I knew it would work!"

"Tell me, my love," said Rue, "How is…" She looked around and lowered her voice carefully. "How is the project coming along?"

"Very well," he said understandingly, "Once it is finished in Gold Crown, it will be exactly as it is here." Rue nodded.

"And Clara?" she asked, "She's treating…it…with care? I don't mean to question her or anything, it's just…"

"I know," he said and fondly touched her face, "You're right to be worried. It's a delicate matter. Come." He took her hand. "There's nothing more to be done for now. The rest is up to them."

"Yes," she nodded again, "I just hope it works."

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**Author's Review**  
Oooh! What are Mytho and Rue up to? And how does it involve Malen?

My favorite minor characters are going to come into play a lot here, whether they're important to the story or not. You'll see them later.

So what do you think so far? Am I impressing anybody? Am I drawing anyone in? Do I really care? (LOL Of course I care!) Either way, I'm still going to upload this because I want to.

See y'all next chapter!


	2. Work in Progress

I started typing as soon as the first chapter was up, so pardon me for the lack of shout-outs.

This one will be longer, I promise, and will involve a lot of dreaming and talking and plot laying. I'm going on the concept that Fakir's writing gift is still raw and less controllable than he'd like it to be, so the story might not make sense in some areas (in which case all questions are welcome), but it'll be good for what it is.

And the lyrics to the song I used in the first chapter are spread pretty thin through the story, but I'll also include other classical music pieces, in keeping with the original show.

Hope you like this!

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_"Dance like no one is watching."_ – Pinterest

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**Chapter 2: Work in Progress**  
When the last rose was drawn, Malen sat back for a moment and took a good look at what she had created so far. It was beautiful.

Another image came to her mind and she turned to the next blank page to the do some experimental doodles before choosing which one would go on the final product.

_"Ain't even gray, but she buries her baby,"_ she murmured the words to the song she'd heard earlier. That line indicated the untimely death of someone very young. She started doodling girls' faces until she drew one whose eyes were closed peacefully. For some reason, Malen gave her somewhat messy hair. The look on her face wasn't just peaceful, though; it also reflected the bittersweet transition from life to death. She had tears creeping from under her eyelashes!

_"The sharp knife of a short life."_ Malen gave the head a body with the hands crossed in front in a low position. She didn't know she was drawing the ballet mime for death; she only knew she was drawing according to her heart. After adding a long coiling braid to the hair, Malen stared wondrously at the girl she'd just drawn, a lovely young girl who hadn't wanted to die so young, but who left the world with love.

"You're the one," she said quietly, "but I don't believe that you've died. It doesn't suit you." She sat back and thought for a moment. "Your image came to me from a song of death…but your life hasn't ended yet. That's not what I feel from you." Feeling another strike of inspiration, the young artist took her pencil to the paper, starting with lines and curves and shapes.

"I don't know where you came from," she said as her pencil raced over the pad, "but you are my drawing and this song will not be of your death. You will not die."

* * *

Some time ago, Fakir wrote a small story about Duck in which the two of them could spend time together in her dreams; she was human then, so it meant they could talk and dance. Fakir loved her no matter what, but he missed hearing the sound of her voice and she missed using it, so after they talked about it in their own special way, he wrote the story and to their joy, it came true.

In tonight's dream, they were on a sidewalk some feet away from the lakeshore with flowers all along it. Duck was twirling as they walked with her arms out. She was wearing her school uniform and singing the song they'd heard earlier.

_"Lord, make me a rainbow."_ She made her arms a circle and pirouetted, _"I'll shine down on my mother—_Quack!" She tripped over something and Fakir calmly grabbed one of her flailing arms.

"Even in dreams you're such a klutz," he said with an echo of his former severity. She laughed.

"You know, Fakir," she said as she walked beside him, "I was thinking about something today. I think you should finish your schooling in ballet."

"Why do you say that?" he asked in slight surprise.

"Because you love ballet," she said simply, "You're a terrific writer and I'm really happy that you live so close to me and that you write about me, but when I watch you dance, I can tell you miss the academy."

"I don't want to leave you," he said.

"You don't have to," she insisted, "Ducks and geese and other birds run around the grounds all the time! I'll just hang out in the ponds! You can see me anytime you want!"

"I'll think about it," he said after a moment, "but not until after I finish this story I started today."

"Really?" her eyes lit up with interest, "What's it about?"

"You, of course," he half-smiled as he took her hand and twirled her, "but this one's different. I was inspired by that song we heard today, but also…I feel the Drosselmeyer part of me working in this one." His face became shadowed and Duck noticed it; she knew how he felt about his ancestry. She remembered something he'd told her about him. She stood in front of him, bent over slightly, and made eye contact with him.

"Fakir," she said, "you told me once that Mr. Drosselmeyer told you to be reckless with your stories, to let your feelings guide you. I don't think you should be reckless, but I do think you should follow your feelings. I know how you feel about Mr. Drosselmeyer…" She cupped one of his hands in both of hers. "…but I also know how you feel about me. Every story you've ever written about me has had a happy ending; even though I got hurt by the crows, I was okay because you were the one writing my story." She smiled softly at him. "I believe in you, Fakir. I believe in your gift. Whatever way this story goes, I know it'll be all right." He smiled back at her and held her head.

"Dummy," he mumbled, covering his embarrassment. Duck giggled then slowly gasped. "Fakir!" she whispered, "Look!" She pointed behind him; he turned with a protective arm around her. A figure was gracefully dancing their way, a delicate figure in a white dress.

"Princess Tutu," Duck breathed wondrously.

"Why is she here?" Fakir mused.

"Well, it is a dream," she said, "Anything can happen in dreams. Let's talk to her!" She danced toward her other self until they both came to a graceful stop, standing with one foot behind the other. Princess Tutu circled her hands overhead, then swept one hand in a circle in front of her face. At the same time as the motions, she spoke their meaning.

"You dance beautifully, Ms. Duck," she said.

"Thank you, Princess," Duck curtsied to her, "Have you come to dance with us?"

"I'd love to," she replied as she lifted Duck's hand, "but first I must prepare you and strengthen you."

"Oh?" Duck blinked, "What for?" Tutu smiled tenderly at her.

"Do not fear, my friend," she said as she twirled her, "I am still a part of you, so I will always be with you." She looked over at Fakir and held out a hand. "Come, Fakir. Will you complete our cygnet?"

Fakir hesitated at first; just a dream, perhaps, but Princess Tutu obviously knew something that even he didn't. He had a sense it had something to do with Duck's new story and that worried him as he joined hands with the two girls: What did Duck need strength against? What was his writing going to do to her now and would he be able to protect her this time?

* * *

They danced together until dawn began to peek over the horizon. They all stopped and looked.

"Sunrise," Tutu observed and turned back to them, "It appears I must be going. Thank you for the dance. I have a few more things to say before I leave." She turned to Duck and held her hands again.

"Duck," she said, "I want you to remember: It will not be what it seems."

"What do you mean?" Duck asked. Tutu touched the girl's face with her eyes closed.

"You shall see," she murmured and turned to Fakir. "Do not fight your gift, Fakir. Though you do not see it now, it will work a miracle. No matter what you write, no matter what you see, it will not be what it seems." She bobbed a ballet curtsey and blew Duck a kiss as she faded in the sunrise like mist.

When Duck awoke in her true form, she felt exhausted.

_'Must've been all that dancing,'_ she thought as she stretched, _'A good swim will probably help.'_

"Well," said Fakir, "Looks like I've got work to do."

"Quack," she nodded. Fakir fed her some bread and took her out to the lake; after watching her for a while, he sat down and began to write the story he started yesterday. He glanced at its opening line.

_Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young girl who loved to dance._

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**Author's Review****:**  
And the story begins to unfold! Matter of fact, that'll be the title of the next chapter!

So, yeah: Reviews, please! Hope you liked it!


	3. The Story Begins

I'm back with another chapter! This one's a bit shorter, but I think you'll still like it!

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_"Forget it, man. This horse is whack! It's got poo-brain!"_ – Jake the Dog, _Adventure Time_

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**Chapter 3: The Story Begins**  
Fakir had followed Tutu's advice when she told him not to fight his gift; it combined with Duck's advice to follow his feelings when he wrote, confident that everything would turn out all right. Despite all this, he could hardly believe what he was writing!

_Even though the prince had already chosen another as his princess, they both treasured the little duck as a dear friend and, knowing that she loved to dance more than anything, began to search for a way to change her back into a human girl._

Fakir stopped. _'A human girl?'_ he thought perplexingly, _'With reality being restored to the town, is that even possible?'_ And just like the last time, he was able to include Mytho (now Prince Sigfried) in a Duck story! He often wondered what he and Rue were up to in the storybook kingdom he came from; now he wondered if this was it. Sensing the answer was in the story, he stopped wondering and continued writing.

_ Using all the knowledge and magic the prince possessed, they searched far and wide for someone with the power to bring this miracle to pass._

It was then that Fakir noticed the song from yesterday was on the radio again; this time, Duck just lingered by the dock so she wouldn't disturb him. It seemed to add a little something to his inspiration.

* * *

Malen stood back to see the dress she'd drawn on her girl: It was satin—or at least, she'd tried to make it _look_ like satin, as the song suggested. The sleeves were thin and fluttery and went halfway to her elbows. The neckline was square and not too low; the skirt flowed out in waves like water and a thin pink ribbon lined the waist, tied in a bow in the middle. Malen smiled gently at what she'd created.

_"And I'll be wearing white,"_ she recited, _"when I come into Your kingdom."_ Something was missing, she thought. The song called for pearls, but that didn't fit this particular image. Carefully Malen added an oval-shaped necklace with a shiny spot.

"There," she nodded, "That suits you much better."

Now that her subject was garbed, the artist felt ready to lay her down on her bed of roses. Having the song on her radio punctuated the moment perfectly.

* * *

_They had heard of a mysterious enchantress who had died long ago, but whose spirit now resided inside a child's doll._

"A possessed doll?" Fakir murmured as he wrote, "Where is this coming from?"

_No one remembered the name of the enchantress, but the doll's name was Clara. She had blue eyes, blonde ringlets, and a light blue dress. The princess danced with joy and beseeched the doll to use her magic to help their friend. Clara agreed and got to work. First she took an image from the princess' memories, a mental picture of the human girl she loved as her friend, and using it she started to create-_

Fakir dropped his pen. He'd seen the unbelievable before, but this was pushing the limits. It just wasn't possible! How could it be?

He put aside his writing for now and hoped Princess Tutu would make another appearance tonight; as far as he was concerned, she had some explaining to do. He stood up, jumped off the dock, waded through the water, and scooped Duck up in his arms. Duck was alarmed not at the gesture, but at his hands.

_'They're trembling,'_ she thought, _'Why is Fakir trembling?'_

"Quack?" she asked in concern.

"I'll be all right," he told her in a spooked voice, "I'm just confused."

"Quack," she said gently and leaned into him, trying to give him strength.

* * *

Unfortunately, Princess Tutu did not dance her way into Duck's dreams that night. Instead, Duck continued to dance her way into Fakir's troubled heart, a more than welcome distraction from the startling development of his story.

"Come on, Fakir!" she chimed on the shore, "Let's wade around in the lake!" She kicked off her shoes and pulled off her socks.

"You spend every day in that lake," he said, "Don't you get tired of it?"

"Of course not!" she smiled brightly, "I'm a duck!" She playfully kicked water at him; unable to resist her light, Fakir joined her in the fun. After a while they sat together on the shore with their feet in the water; suddenly something floated up from the depths, right at Duck's feet.

"Look," she blinked and picked up a lovely bouquet of white roses, "How pretty." She smelled them; they had a strong and beautiful fragrance despite having mysteriously bobbed up from the lake.

"Where did they come from?" Fakir wondered. He looked over at Duck, who had her lower face in the flowers with her eyes closed; the moonlight put a silver sheen on her pink hair and her eyelashes seemed dusted with starlight. He smiled.

"You may not be a prima ballerina," he said softly, "but you certainly inspire the poet in me." Her eyes opened and her cheeks turned red.

"Thank you, Fakir," she returned the soft smile, "You may not be a first knight, but you inspire the dancer in me." She picked a rose from the middle of the bouquet and gave it to him. "Besides," she added as she leaned on him, "Writers are more romantic, anyway." He chuckled and put his arm down behind her. For the rest of the dream they sat that way together until the dawn came to awaken them.

When Fakir awoke to find the little duck still snuggled in his neck, he noticed the scent of roses on her feathers. Feeling brave again, he immediately set to work, starting from where he'd cut off the last sentence.

_…and using it she started to create a body, the same body the duck had been in as a human._

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**Author's Review****:  
**I absolutely LOVE doing Fakir/Duck fluff! They're so adorable!

I don't have any references to talk about this time, (THAT'S unusual) so I'll just leave it here. Next chapter will be from Mytho and Rue's side of the story! ;)


	4. Knives & Roses

Hey, guys! I hope SOMEbody's enjoying this! Even if you're not, I'm still going to upload this because it's for me.

So this chapter involves a lot of plot development, so you might want to buckle up. Please enjoy and PLEASE review!

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_"There are shop boys and there are boys who happen to work in shops. And Tristan, you are no shop boy."_ – Claire Danes as Yvanne, _Stardust_

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**Chapter 4: Knives and Roses**  
Rue was very excited as she walked down the hallway to the special room; she had a beautiful bouquet from the Queen's royal garden.

_'White roses,'_ she thought happily as she breathed them in, _'Fit for a princess! She'll love these! I wonder what her favorite is?'_

"Mistress Clara," she called as she gently knocked on the door. She heard a sudden movement and something clattered to the floor.

"Come in," a young voice answered. Rue opened the door with a curious look; the doll-enchantress looked as flustered as she'd sounded.

"My princess," she smoothed her skirt and curtsied, "How lovely to see you again."

"Thank you," Rue curtsied back, "I brought some roses for Duck and I've ordered more to be placed around her. I thought it might be a nice surprise for her to match the image Miss Malen is drawing of her."

She walked over as she spoke; Clara was standing on a cushioned altar with a body lying on it in a flowing white dress. It was Duck's human body, exactly as Rue remembered it, except it wasn't alive yet.

"She's beautiful, Mistress Clara," she smiled, "You've done such a wonderful job! She'll be so happy!"

"I'm flattered, Princess," Clara bowed, "and I'm honored to be of service to the Royal Family. Please excuse me." She jumped down and left the room. Rue laid the flowers on the body's stomach and moved the hands underneath them, one over the other. She looked down at the face, its eyes closed peacefully, and she touched the soft pink hair.

"Will you dance with me again, my friend?" she smiled tenderly, remembering their _pas de deux_ from her big dance-off with Anteaterina. Duck had been an awkward dancer, just a beginner, but she had bravely agreed to be her partner. Rue never thought she could love anyone but Mytho, yet she'd lay her life on the line for the first girl who'd ever shown her true friendship.

"I'll be back, Duck," she said and turned. As she did, her foot touched something. She looked down and saw a sharp silver knife.

_'A knife?'_ she thought as she stared at it. Was this the thing Clara had dropped? Was this the reason she had acted so flustered before?

She gasped in horror; a small feather was etched on the blade near the hilt! _A raven's feather!_ Rue looked fearfully at the precious, nearly-complete body. What was Clara planning to do to it?

"Your Highness?" said a maid with her arms full of white roses, "The flowers you requested." There were three more maids behind her, also laden with roses.

"Thank you, Giselle," Rue breathed with relief, "You may proceed with the arrangement and um…if you'd please place some guards at the door, I'd be most grateful."

"As you wish, my princess," Giselle curtsied. Feeling better now that there were people in the room, Rue ran out in a hurry.

_'I must find Mytho at once!'_ she thought dreadfully, _'If Clara's using something with a raven's feather, it could only mean one thing!'_

* * *

"Duck!" Fakir exclaimed as he jumped off the dock, "Duck, wake up!" He lifted her out of the water; Duck coughed and spluttered and shook the water out of her feathers. She was famous for falling asleep while swimming, but this time she took too long to pop her head back up and nearly drowned herself.

"Quack," she whined. She had dark circles under her eyes, which you wouldn't think was possible for a duck, and she looked like she hadn't slept for days despite having just woken up! She looked terrible!

"I'm sorry," he sighed, "My writing is doing this to you."

"Quack," she said. She touched the side of her head.

"Remember?" he guessed the mime. Duck tapped her forehead twice then twirled her wings around each other.

"Dance," he murmured, "Wait—Princess Tutu?"

"Quack," she nodded. He took a moment to piece it together.

"Remember what Princess Tutu said?" he finally guessed. Duck quacked and nodded again.

"She said not to fear my gift," he reflected, "and that it wouldn't be what it seemed."

"Quack," she said. She held up one wing facing inward and with the other pretended to write. The message was clear: _Keep writing._

"I will," he nodded, "but if you don't mind, I'm keeping you with me. You need rest and I don't want you to drown."

"Quack." She curled up and laid in his lap while he continued to write.

* * *

"Will you two please be quiet?" Autor snapped from his desk haven in the library. He straightened a stack of papers and walked off to another part. "Silly lovers and their silly young love," he muttered, "Honestly."

He started going around the main floor, collecting books that other students had been too lazy to put back on the shelves. As he went, his thoughts turned back to his distant relative, Fakir. He kept touch once in a while; he seemed to be doing well. Autor knew now that Duck had truly been a duck all along and though it had perplexed him at first, he now understood Fakir's decision to live near her.

Eventually he drifted over to some tables by the windows. He picked up a book and caught something white in the corner of his eye. He glanced up to be faced with a large paper rectangle—a sketch pad. He peeked around and saw a girl with pale hair and glasses drawing intently with a look of concentration on her face. She saw him and stopped.

"Oh, Mr. Autor," she said quietly, "Am I disturbing anything?"

"No," he said as he straightened up, "I was merely curious. You're Malen, the art student, right?"

"Yes, I am," she looked surprised, "How did you know?"

"Your drawing of the lake grounds is on the wall by the door," he answered practically, "I was here when they hung it up and honored you for it. It's undoubtedly the best landscape pencil drawing I've seen yet."

"Thank you," she smiled, "I'm glad it was so well-received." Autor was standing with his back to her left now at a table. He retrieved another book and as he turned around, he just happened to glance at her sketch. He did a double take.

"What's that?" he asked, stepping behind her.

"It's a work in progress," she answered as she drew, "I heard a song and it inspired me."

Autor stared at the drawing with wide eyes; Malen didn't notice.

"Do you know these two people?" he asked, adjusting his glasses.

"Well, the girl does strike me as very familiar," she said thoughtfully, "but no matter how hard I try, I just can't remember. It's strange, though; I didn't plan to put the boy in, but it sort of came to me through the song: _There's a boy here in town, says he'll love me forever."_

"Miss Malen," Autor interrupted, "I don't mean to alarm you, but I must ask you to come with me and bring your sketch pad with you."

"Is something wrong?" she asked, worried.

"I sincerely hope not," he said, "but it could be important. Please come with me." Malen closed her pad, put her pencil in her bag, and followed Autor with the big pad under her arm.

_'If this is coincidence,'_ Autor thought, _'then I'm a monkey's uncle!'_

* * *

While she slept in Fakir's lap, Duck had a dream.

She was Princess Tutu again, dancing to her heart's content on the lake shore. The song she currently loved was playing for her.

_A penny for my thoughts  
Oh, no—I'll sell 'em for a dollar  
They're worth so much more  
after I'm a goner_

Right at the edge of the shore, she spotted another bouquet of white roses.

"How lovely," she said as she picked them up, "They're just like the roses I found last night." She then saw something approaching over the water.

"A boat," she observed. She watched it drift toward her until it slid up on the sand. Tutu looked inside and gasped.

"But that's me!" she exclaimed. Her normal girl body was lying in the boat, facing the prow in bare feet and a white dress, surrounded by white roses exactly like the ones Tutu was holding!

"What does this mean?" her voice shook, "These flowers…am I going to die? If it isn't what it seems, then what _is_ it?" She gave a small gasp and dropped her flowers as she fell to her knees.

"I feel weak," she said as she sank to the ground, "I must wake up. I must!"

* * *

Fakir never told Duck the stories he wrote about her until they were done because they always came true, so he didn't have to until after the fact. This one was the longest since the battle with the Raven, but this time his voice wasn't in her head. Something inside him forbade him from telling her about this one in particular. He wanted to, but it was as if something had gotten a hold of him; he was physically unable to tell her directly about this dangerous yet incredible story.

But he stopped cold when his precious duck woke up and started quacking in a weak-voiced yet distressed manner.

"Come on." He stood up with her in one arm and his pad under the other. "We're going inside."

"Quack," she sounded emotional, wishing she could properly tell him how scared she was. But she also knew it was important for him to keep writing, no matter what.

"What the-?" Fakir stopped, "Duck, look who's here."

"Quack?" She looked up and saw two people she knew walking toward the lake house.

_'Malen and Autor!'_ she thought happily. Autor spotted them.

"Fakir!" he said and ran to them, "I'm glad I caught you." He looked at the duck in his arm. Fakir instinctively held her slightly closer, as if protecting her from all the world.

"Is this her?" Autor asked. Fakir nodded.

"She can understand you, too," he added. Autor leaned over to talk to her.

"Ms. Duck," he said, "Do you remember me?"

"Quack," she nodded. Just then, Malen joined them.

"You both remember Ms. Malen, don't you?" Autor indicated her.

"You're the art student, right?" said Fakir. She nodded and he added, "I remember you had a heart shard with you."

"I'm sorry," she said, "I only vaguely remember that."

"Don't worry," said Autor, "That's beside the point, anyway. I'm sorry to intrude, Fakir, but we must impose on your hospitality. Ms. Malen has been working on something that will be of interest to you and Ms. Duck."

"Really," said Fakir, "Come inside, then. I'll make some tea."

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**Author's Review****:**  
So now the plot is beginning to thicken and the chess pieces are coming into play! I hope I haven't confused anybody so far, and I really hope y'all enjoy this with me! Please review and regard me kindly!


	5. Body Snatchers

I was so happy to get a Review/Favorite/Follow that it gave me the courage to update! LOL

As you know, the plot is thickening like a delicious beef stew and all the characters have come into play! Now the saga continues!

By the way, the name Hilarion is from the ballet _Giselle._

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_"Your life is like __**Gossip Girl**__, only everybody's old and poor."_ – Sarah, _New Girl_

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**Chapter 5: Body Snatchers**  
"So, Fakir," Autor said as he put down his tea, "Are you writing again?"

"Is this relevant to your visit?" Fakir responded. He still wasn't entirely comfortable around his distant cousin.

"It just might be," the cousin said in his mysteriously pompous manner, "Ms. Malen? Would you please show Mr. Fakir what you've brought?"

"Sure," she nodded and stood up with Duck in her arms. She didn't quite understand the small bird's attachment to her, but she enjoyed the attention. She gently put her on the table, patted her on the head, and walked over to her closed sketch pad resting on an easel.

"Um," she said, "I heard a song recently that's been playing for a while now and it inspired me to draw this."

She lifted the cover and turned some pages.

"These were experimental sketches," she explained, "and this is the final product."

She flipped to the next page.

* * *

As it turned out, Prince Sigfried had an eight-year-old brother that was his spitting image, except he had clear blue eyes.

"Hilarion?" Rue said, "Have you seen Mytho—I mean Sigfried?"

"Yes!" he smiled brightly, "Come!" He grabbed her hand and led her over the lawns to where Mytho was giving a ballet lesson to some of the servants' children.

"Sigfried!" called the younger prince, "I've brought Princess Rue! She wants to see you!"

"Oh, Rue!" Mytho smiled, "Thank you, Hilarion!" He put down the small girl he was currently holding. "Good work, everyone," he said to them all, "Why don't we all take a break now?"

"Okay!" they all chimed and bowed and curtsied to their princes and princess before scampering off to play. Mytho's brother also bowed gallantly and followed the other children.

"Mytho, I think we've made a mistake," Rue said urgently, getting right to the point.

"What do you mean?" he looked surprised and concerned.

"It's Clara!" she lowered her voice, fearful that she might be overheard, "I think she's going to do something to Duck's body!"

* * *

Fakir leapt to his feet and Duck flapped her wings and quacked, both floored with shock.

The picture was of Duck in her normal human form! She was wearing a flowing white dress, holding a bouquet of white roses, and was surrounded by more of them! She was lying down with her bare feet toward the front and she was in a diagonal position to allow a view of the blanketed altar she was on. Her eyes were closed peacefully, like Sleeping Beauty, and to top it off, the heart shard Drosselmeyer had given her as a token of her participation in his story, the strange blood-red jewel that had split her identity in three, was resting on her chest on a gold chain.

And that wasn't even half of it! One of her hands—her left one—was being held and kissed by a handsome young man in a white frilly shirt and a regal gold-stitched vest. He had wild dark hair.

It was Fakir!

"My reaction precisely," Autor said calmly.

"I don't understand," said Fakir.

"I don't, either," said Malen a bit nervously, "It just came to me. It's as if the picture itself demanded to be drawn. I don't even remember her."

"It doesn't matter," said Autor, "What matters is the connection between that picture and your story, Fakir. You _are_ writing, I presume?"

"What makes you so sure?" Fakir glared at him. Autor gave him that creepy, condescending look.

"Nothing like this _ever_ happens in this town unless a Drosselmeyer is at work," he said, "And you are most definitely a Drosselmeyer."

_"Quack!"_ Duck squawked angrily and bit him on the hand!

_'Don't you dare pick on Fakir like that!'_ she wanted to yell at him. But all she got out was "Quack, quack-quack, _quack!_" and flapping her wings.

"Hmph," Autor sniffed while nursing his hand, "Still his loyal protector, I see. No matter what form you take, you'll always defend him, won't you?"

_"Quack!"_ She pointed at him as if to say, "And don't you forget it!"

"Leave him alone, Duck," Fakir said as he approached with his writing tablet, "He has a point." He looked at Autor. "I _am_ writing a story. It's about Duck, like all the others."

* * *

"A raven's feather?" Mytho was shocked, "Are you sure?"

"Trust me," Rue said wretchedly, "I recognize those feathers when I see them."

"But if it's Clara's…" he said, "You're certain it was hers?"

"I heard her drop something," she recalled, "When I went in, she wasn't holding anything. The only thing I saw was that knife."

"Then we can no longer trust Clara," he narrowed his eyes.

"Were we wrong to trust her in the first place?" Rue asked fearfully.

"I don't know," he shook his head, "but we can't accuse her without proof. We have to catch her in the act."

"What if she's in the act right now?" she gasped.

"Come on," Mytho said as she grabbed her hand and ran, "We'll check the room and see if she's there."

* * *

"Are you going to let us read it?" asked Autor.

"Not you." Fakir placed the pad on the tablet in front of Malen. "Her."

"Me?" Malen said, "But why? I understand the least of anyone here!"

"Read the story," he prompted, "and it'll start to make sense. We'll fill you in on the rest. Autor?"

He followed him and Duck (who was being carried again because of her exhaustion) to the hallway.

"What is it, Fakir?" he said lowly.

"I know we don't see eye to eye on much of anything," said Fakir, "but I haven't forgotten how you helped us in the last story, when you saved me from the last Bookman. I might need that help again. I'm not sure when, but something's going to happen and when it does, I'll need you to protect Duck and Malen."

"Duck I understand," Autor nodded, "but why Malen? What's her role in this story?" They all looked at her quietly reading the story.

"Every author has an illustrator," said Fakir, "The moment I saw that drawing I knew I'd found mine. I don't know who she's descended from, but there's no doubt in my mind: Malen is the illustrator of my stories."

* * *

Mytho and Rue burst into the rom to find Mistress Clara standing on Duck's stomach holding that same knife over her head, ready to plunge it into the chest!

"_Clara!_" the prince said sharply, "What are you doing?" Not waiting for an answer, he rushed to the altar and grabbed the doll up in both hands, pinning her arms to her sides as the knife clattered to the floor, giving off the same sound Rue had heard earlier.

"What were you doing with that knife?" he demanded, "Answer your prince!"

"The body is complete, my prince," she said innocently, "All that remains is for me to enter it."

"Enter?" Mytho repeated perplexingly, "That body does not belong to you! It belongs to someone very precious to us! We told you that!"

"Wait! What are you doing?" Clara exclaimed at Rue, who had sat the body up with one hand and the other holding an arm.

"We commissioned you to make this body for our dear friend," said Mytho, "Whatever dark magic you were about to use, it will not be used here—not on this body and not in my castle!"

"I need a human body, my prince," she said, "My powers will not work to their fullest unless I am flesh and blood."

"Then make your own body," Rue spoke up, now holding the body bridal style, "Leave Duck to us."

"And leave my kingdom." Mytho dropped the doll and drew his sword on her. "You attempted to steal the creation we paid you to create. You have betrayed our trust and you are banished forthwith. Gather your things, take the treasure we've paid you, and go."

_"I am not packed off as easily as that, Prince."_ Clara's voice turned hard and severe. Mytho and Rue turned their heads back at the door. The doll now lay on the floor as inanimate as the day she was made. Above it was the spirit of a beautiful woman who looked like she was in her forties when she died. She had olive skin, long black hair that fluffed out in waves, and chocolate brown eyes. She wore a red ballet dress with a flimsy translucent skirt that ghosted out on the sides with its fringes floating like tentacles and the top had a scooped neckline and slightly puffy sleeves.

Before she could do anything, Mytho got himself and Rue out of the room and locked it.

"At least we've delayed her," he said, "Here." He took the body from her. "Follow me." As they ran, he ordered everyone out of the royal guest house.

"Sigfried!" his small brother met them outside, "What's going on in there?"

"Hilarion!" said Mytho, "Go inside and tell Father to put the castle on lockdown! And tell Mother not to worry! Rue and I are going on a small trip."

"Yes, brother!" he nodded. Never one to forget his manners, he bowed to Rue again before running inside the main castle to deliver the Crown Prince's orders.

"Do you remember where we said we'd take her when it was done?" Mytho asked as they ran toward the forest.

"Yes," she panted, keeping close to him, "but will she be safe?"

"Don't worry," he answered, "My mother lived there before she met Father. Her magic is the strongest I've ever seen. Once Duck is secure, I'll go back home and fight Clara!"

"I'll go with you!" she said as they ran up a hill sloping down to a lake.

"No, Rue," he said, "I need you to stay with Duck. She'll need your extra protection, especially when she wakes up!"

POW! A gunshot rang out that made them drop down on the other side of the hill. Mytho shielded both girls.

"What was _that?_" Rue burst out.

"Stay down." Mytho covered her head and crept uphill. Rue held onto Duck, her heart pounding hard enough for both of them. She tried to steady her breathing and clear her head when she heard Mytho gasp. She looked up at him.

"What is it?" she whispered.

"They're soldiers," he murmured in amazement, "Toy soldiers!"

* * *

**Author's Review****:**  
Just to clear something up, The Raven is not actually involved in this story. I'm just using his feathers as a universal symbol of evil magic.

And in case you're wondering, I will be using the song "If I Die Young" all throughout the story in bits and pieces. It's basically the theme of the whole story, probably because I was watching _Princess Tutu_ at the time I discovered the song, so…sorry. If you don't like the song, either ignore it or read something else.

Oh, and Clara's evil voice is the same as the chick narrator from the series. ^_^

Stay tuned for the next chapter, when one more character comes to throw in her two bits! ;)


	6. March of the Toys

Thanks for the reviews so far! This one's a bit longer, but please bear with me! It's gonna be awesome!

And if anyone's confused, the Mytho perspective is pretty much happening at the same time Fakir's writing it…sort of.

* * *

_"I am Sumomo! It's very nice to meet you!"_ \- Sumomo, _Chobits_

* * *

**Chapter 6: March of the Toys  
**Malen looked up from her reading.

"Toy soldiers," she said, "Just like The Nutcracker!" She stood up. "Mr. Fakir," she called, "this story is wonderful! My heart is pounding right along with the princess! You must finish it!"

She walked to him holding out his tablet.

"You write," she smiled and placed it in his hands, "I'll draw." Fakir nodded in agreement and together the author and his illustrator sat down at the table and set to their work. Duck and Autor watched them for a moment from the hall doorway.

"Well, Ms. Duck?" he said, "What are _we_ going to do?" Duck touched her bill thoughtfully.

"Quack!" she smiled and beckoned for him to follow her. He obeyed after letting the other two know. Duck waddled slowly because of her fatigue taking its toll on her. She led him to a small library a few doors down.

"Quack." She fluttered onto the only table, one of Fakir's many writing spots with paper, pens, ink pots, and an old oil lamp radiating light on its own. It brightened when Duck approached it. She quacked again and nudged a handmade book toward Autor, a bunch of paper threaded together with a leather cord.

"Fakir wrote this?" he said. Duck quacked proudly. "Well," he said, looking at the book, "I suppose this will keep me occupied." He sat down and began to read while Duck danced in the soft, affectionate glow of the lamp.

* * *

"Toy soldiers?" Rue repeated in a whisper, "What do you mean?"

"Look," said Mytho, "but be careful." After gently releasing Duck's body, Rue crawled uphill on her stomach; the prince put his arm around her to keep her close. She slowly raised her head up next to his and gasped.

An army of old-fashioned toy soldiers was in formation at the bottom of the hill with their muskets held closely at their sides. They stood erect and silent and faceless.

"Do you think Clara made them?" Rue asked softly.

"No doubt," Mytho murmured, "but we can't possibly defeat them all. Our only chance is to get to the safe place."

"But how can we get away?" she asked, "The minute they see us, they'll start shooting!"

Mytho was about to reply when they heard a faint rhythmic rapping from behind the army; each soldier turned right on his heel to see and Mytho and Rue cautiously peeked down. Once again, Rue gasped with shock and covered her mouth.

"Uzura!" she breathed. Between the rear of the army and the forest behind it, Uzura was standing all alone, playing her drum! Rue wasn't sure if she knew the three of them were there or not, but she _was_ sure that Uzura was in grave danger!

"What does she think she's doing?" the princess asked fearfully.

"Providing us with a distraction," Mytho answered as he wriggled backwards, taking her with him, "Come on."

"What about Uzura?" she said.

"Rue, this may be our only chance to get away," said Mytho, "Besides…" He smiled. "I have a feeling she's not in quite as much danger as it seems. Come now, quick!"

The two of them scooted down to where Duck was; Mytho scooped her up and scooted further down until they were far enough to jump up and run for it, leaving sweet little Uzura at the mercy of Clara's army. One soldier in a light blue uniform hopped over to her, since his feet were stuck to a base. He had no mouth, but he had a voice.

"Child," he asked, mesmerized, "What manner of toy art thou?"

"Toy?" she paused, "Uzura's a puppet, zura! What are you, zura?"

"I am the captain of Mistress Clara's regiment," he said formally, "We are her faithful army of toy soldiers."

"Ohh," she said in awe, "What are you doing, zura?"

"We are in pursuit of Prince Sigfried and Princess Rue," he answered importantly.

"Why?"

"Because Mistress Clara has commanded it."

"But they're my friends, zura!" she piped innocently.

"Then we shall take you into custody as a prisoner!" he declared, "Surround her, men!"

A few soldiers circled her but she lifted her drumsticks and played the famous rhythm: _Bum-bum. Bum-bum. Parrrrrrrrrum-bum._ The next thing the soldiers knew, they were marching to the March of the Toys suite from _The Nutcracker_, bewitched by the child puppet's drum.

"Let's go this way, zura," she said casually, like nothing was happening. She led them into the forest one way as Mytho and Rue escaped along a river another way. They ran through a golden barley field until they saw a lone willow tree on their left with its roots dipping into the water like toes.

"There it is," Mytho nodded to an ornate wooden boat moored to the tree. They hurried to it and got in. Mytho handed Rue the body so he could undo the rope.

"Just head for the island, Rue," he said, "and stay with Duck, no matter what!"

"Please be careful, Mytho!" she said. He smiled and kissed her tenderly.

"Don't worry," he touched her face, "I'll be fine. I promise I'll take care of Uzura." He shoved the boat off; Rue watched him standing on the shore and did the "I love you" mime, which he returned before turning back into the barley. The princess smiled, proud of his bravery, and looked down at Duck's body.

"It's okay, Duck," she leaned over her, "I'll absolutely keep you safe."

The magic boat glided smoothly over the lake unaided, cutting a gentle swath through the lilies that covered the water surrounding the island that held Duck's safe place, the queen's marble tower. Caught up in its beauty, Rue didn't notice the heart inside the lifeless body when it gave a very faint thump.

* * *

Back in the lakehouse, Duck collapsed on the floor, where she had been dancing.

"Ms. Duck!" Autor sprang to his feet and knelt by her. Her tiny chest slowly moved in and out as she lay on her side with her eyes closed. Knowing neither her condition nor the reason behind it, Autor was very much alarmed!

"Ms. Duck, are you all right?" he called, "Can you hear me?" She replied with a weak quack. He could see fear in her pretty blue eyes.

"Do you want me to get Fakir?" he asked her gently. After thinking for a moment, she nodded. Autor immediately bolted from the room, calling for Fakir. Duck closed her eyes and saw Princess Tutu reaching down to her.

* * *

Let us now follow the brave and handsome prince on his quest to rescue Uzura from Clara's mechanical army of toys. His plan formed as he pursued them: Uzura had given them the distraction they needed to get away, whether she knew it or not; now he would return the favor.

He quickly jumped backwards and slipped behind a tree; he was several feet away from the rear of the army! Making sure he was unseen, he pirouetted rapidly with his sword overhead and called forth his Flower Waltz; he had it fly him over them and then he jumped and flipped while waving his sword. The flowers flew wildly all around, blinding the soldiers as Mytho landed on one knee beside Uzura.

"Ohh!" she gasped wondrously.

"Hello, Uzura," the prince smiled and offered his hand, "Will you come fly with me?"

* * *

Fakir burst into the library, fell to his knees, and gathered the frail bird into his arms.

"Talk to me, Duck," he murmured with his eyes closed, "Are you all right?"

She stirred and looked up at him.

"Fa…kir."

He looked shocked at her. He distinctly heard her speak his name! He could only attribute it to Drosselmeyer's ability to speak with his own characters, but he couldn't worry about that right now. Autor stayed in the dining room with Malen.

"Duck?" he said. Her eyes were tearing up.

"I'm scared, Fakir," she said weakly with a wavering voice, "I can feel the change happening."

* * *

"Where are we going, zura?" Uzura asked as she hung onto Mytho's leg. The flowers were flying them away from the toys as they tried to retaliate.

"I want to send you on a journey," Mytho answered, "You must find Fakir."

"Fakir, zura?"

"Yes," he nodded, "You must find him and take him to where Duck is."

"Duck is here, zura?" she popped, "Where is she, zura?"

* * *

"How did you know about that?" Fakir asked.

"Princess Tutu told me," Duck answered, "She's with me now, holding me just as you are."

"I'm sorry, Duck," he said intensely as he held her closely, "Can you ever forgive me for putting you through this?"

"Just keep writing," she said, "and please don't let go of me. I want to be with you all the way."

"You always are," he cradled her head and wept, "and you always will be."

* * *

"Here." Mytho handed her the exact necklace Duck used to wear.

"Is it a heart shard, zura?" she asked.

"No," he said, "It's a magic ruby. When you find Fakir, it will guide you to Duck, understand?" She nodded.

"Where are _you_ going, zura?" she asked.

"I must defeat the witch who created that army of toys," he said.

"Okay," she replied, "Do your best, zura!"

"I will," he nodded, "Safe journey, Uzura." He cupped a flower in his hands and held it up to his face with his eyes closed; he blew it out and spread his arms out. Petals danced on a warm wind that whisked the small puppet girl off the flowers, above and along the river. She exclaimed her excitement and played her drum as she floated away with the ruby strung on its front.

* * *

Fakir dropped his pen and jumped from his chair.

"Autor," he said urgently, "We're about to have company!"

The two boys and Malen ran out to the lake and stood on the shore.

"Fakir," Duck whispered in his arms. Fakir turned away, sensing that the end was near.

"Are you still afraid, Duck?" he asked, cradling her tiny body.

"Not anymore," she whispered, "I'm never afraid with you, Fakir." She took as deep a breath as she could. "Save me a dance, okay?"

"Every one," he smiled through his tears. He kissed her gently on her head and held her. "I'll see you later, Duck," he whispered.

"See you later," she breathed her last, "Fakir."

His heart froze when he felt her body go limp; even though it was only part of the story, just the similitude of her death terrified the young man like nothing ever had before, and he felt an echo of the traumatic grief he'd felt for his parents.

But before he could be tempted to give in to these feelings of despair, he heard another voice calling his name loud and long—a younger, familiar voice accompanied by the rat-a-tat rhythm of a drum! It was coming from the sky!

He raised his head just as Autor intercepted, caught, and turned around holding Uzura!

* * *

High in the queen's tower on the beautiful island in the middle of the Lily Lake, in a chamber all alone, Duck's human body was lying on a white queen-size bed with gossamer curtains, surrounded and crowned by white roses like the bouquet on her stomach. The room was full of candlelight with one window facing south.

In this near-holy chamber, Duck the human girl took her first long, slow breath of new life and half-opened her eyes for a brief moment before falling into a deep comfortable sleep.

* * *

**Author's Review****:**  
Just a heads up: I'm going to do this perspective switch thing the whole time, so get used to it.

Okay, the Lily Lake is a cross reference to _The Chronicles of Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader_ (the book) and _The Lady of Shalott_, which I think is by Tennyson.

Autor's role in this story is going to be pretty epic…at least, compared to how he was in the series.

That's all I've got so far; stay tuned, 'cause I'm super-excited for the next chapter! IT'S GONNA BE SO FLIPPIN' AWESOME!


	7. Dazed and Confused

I'm really excited to get this chapter going, so we'll just skip the jibber-jabber and get right down to it.

* * *

_"No, Mei Mei. It's time to wake up."_ – Simon Tam, _Firefly_

* * *

**Chapter 7: Dazed and Confused**  
Autor stared with amusingly wide eyes at the puppet he held in his hands. She stared back at him silently.

"Hey!" she piped, "I remember you, zura!" Fakir came over just then.

"Welcome back, Uzura," he smiled.

"Fakir!" she jumped down, "Mytho sent me to find you, zura!"

"I see," he said, not surprised, "Did he tell you how we're supposed to reach his kingdom?"

"He gave me this ruby, zura," she held up her drum, "He said it'll help us find Duck, zura!" Fakir looked at the tiny duck in his arm, newly deceased, looking so small and helpless.

"Before we go," he said, "there's something I have to do." He knelt by the lakeshore and laid the duck down on her back. He went into the house, came back out with his tablet and pen, and wrote.

His writings created a bunch of white roses that sprang from thin air to surround the duck's body; more and more appeared until she was completely covered with them. A light shone from underneath and the light form of a beautiful swan spread its wings and took flight into the sky toward the sun. When the roses blew away, the duck was gone. Malen sang a line from the song that inspired her.

_So put on your best, boys  
and I'll wear my pearls  
What I never did is done_

"Keep shining, my swan," Fakir murmured, "Shine so no matter what, I will surely find you."

* * *

The first thing she was aware of on her climb back to consciousness was soft warmth, absolute physical comfort. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this good. She could probably stay here forever, but she kept going on her journey to the waking world. The first time had been a fluke, an instinctive reflex of someone who was totally out of it. This time she would arrange her focus, line up her senses, and get a grip on herself. This time she would wake up.

And she did.

At first she thought she might have gone blind, for her eyes slid open to see nothing but white. Then she glanced around and discovered she was lying in a huge bed; the only strength she had was in her head and she slowly moved it to her right. She saw her shoulder, her arm, and part of her chest. She was wearing a white dress! She couldn't see it all, but she saw her sleeves went halfway to her elbows and were almost pleated. She could also see white roses all around her!

"Huh?" she groaned. She wasn't quite awake enough to form coherent sentences yet.

It was then that she noticed…she was alone.

_'Isn't anyone here?'_ she thought, as fear began to wrap its cold talons around her new heart. _'Where am I?'_

"Uuh!" she squeaked faintly. Tears crept into the corners of her eyes. She kept making noises like a frightened child until her terror overwhelmed her and she screamed with what little energy she had. She stopped when she heard footsteps to her left; a door flew open and someone ran in, whipped open the bed curtains, and stood over her with a freaked-out look on her face.

"Duck!" said the person. Duck gasped.

"Rue!" she spoke her first word and the tears spilled out in relief. Rue cleared away some of the flowers to sit on the bed and gently took Duck's face in her hands.

"Duck, you're awake!" she exclaimed, "I can't believe it! Are you all right?"

"Rue, what's going on?" Duck asked, "Where are we? Why can't I move? _How did I turn back into a girl?!"_

"Ssh," said Rue soothingly, "It's all right, Duck. Everything's all right. Just clam down and I'll explain everything."

* * *

While the princess told the newly awakened girl everything she knew, the prince they had once shared a love for was on his way back to his castle, flying over the golden fields of barley and rye, over the winding road that separated them, until he came across Clara's army. They were milling about in a confused fashion and were calling Uzura's name! Mytho smoothly descended.

"Soldiers of Clara," he asked in a commanding tone, "Why are you calling for Uzura? If your intention is to do her harm, know that I will stop you with all my power!" The soldier in blue approached him and bowed as low as his toy body would allow.

"My lord Prince," he said, "I am Captain Loys, commanding officer of the First Regiment."

"Speak, Captain," said Mytho, "Why do you search for my small friend? Has your mistress need of her?"

"If such was the case," said Loys, "we would indeed be in pursuit, arms at the ready. But there is something in her eyes that overpowers our loyalty to Mistress Clara. It is inexplicable but it grips us, nevertheless. If ever we find the puppet child again, my men and I will offer ourselves as her servants."

"Do you no longer serve Clara, then?" Mytho asked.

"No, lord prince," said the captain, "We have found a stronger bond of servitude. We now seek our new mistress—Mistress Uzura!"

"Mistress Uzura!" echoed the soldiers. Mytho smiled.

"Have no fear, Captain Loys," he said, "Your new mistress is on a journey and will return soon. In the meantime, I must hurry to my castle and defeat Clara before she does anyone harm. I advise you all to stay away from Clara. She'll seek to destroy you all once she learns of your desertion."

"We shall," said Loys, "but while we wait upon our mistress, is there any manner in which we may assist you?" Mytho thought for a moment.

"Actually," he said, "there is one thing you could do."

* * *

"After we found Clara, we told her what we wanted her to do," Rue explained, "I gave her an image of you from my memories and she used it to create your body."

"How did she do it?" Duck asked curiously.

"I don't know," Rue sighed, "Mytho gave her a room in the guest wing of his castle. Whatever she did, she did it in secret…with Raven's magic."

"What?" Duck's eyes widened, "Raven's magic?"

"I went to visit you today," said the princess, "I found a dagger on the floor with a Raven's feather engraved on it." She decided not to mention what Clara had been about to _do_ with that dagger. "Once we figured it out, we took your body from her and she attacked the castle. Mytho and I got you here, but he went back to fight her."

"But where are we?" said Duck.

"An enchanted tower," Rue smiled, "Mytho said his mother lived here before she met his father. It will protect us. You'll need it until you get your strength back. Speaking of which, I should make you something to eat."

"Rue," Duck interrupted, "Why did you and Mytho do all this for me?"

The princess looked at her for a moment.

"You gave us our dreams," she said with true humility, "We wanted to give you yours." Duck was floored and her eyes began to glisten.

"I'd hug you if I could," she smiled as the tears fell. Rue smiled back and gently hugged her.

* * *

Uzura tatted away on her drum as she sat in the bow of the boat Fakir was rowing. Autor kept a second lookout and Malen continued to sketch on her smaller pad that she always had with her in case of inspiration.

They had all agreed beforehand that, as artist of the story, Malen absolutely needed to keep her pad and pencils on hand, so she had a carrying bag with her that also held Fakir's manuscript.

Right now, she was sketching away on her pad with a look of intense concentration on her face; inspiration had struck again, and as we all know, Malen always obeyed her gift. The boys left her alone and continued with their own duties, watching for Uzura's ruby to show them that they were close to their destination.

"Stay close," said Fakir, "We're going into a fog." Autor scooted closer to Malen and held a lit lantern over her sketch pad; he saw what she was drawing and looked concerned.

"Uh-oh," he said, "Fakir?"

Both boys were peeking over her shoulders now, but she ignored them and managed to focus on her art. Fakir reached into her bag, grabbed his manuscript, and wrote some more.

"Arm yourself, Autor," he said, watching his pen.

"We don't have any weapons," Autor said seriously.

"We do now," Fakir pointed his pen under the seat in front of them. Autor fished around and pulled out a strung bow and a quiver full of arrows.

"I've always wanted to try archery," he mumbled with interest as he put the quiver on his back. He also found a brown-leather-sheathed sword with a black handle. "I suppose this is yours." He leaned it against Fakir's seat next to him.

"Thanks," the writer said, "Now put on the cloak, grab Uzura, and get down." Looking curious again, Autor reached under the seat again and pulled out a dark green hooded cloak! He shook his head.

"Your power amazes me, Fakir," he said as he donned it, "Come down, Uzura."

The puppet child stopped drumming and hopped down.

"What are you doing, zura?" she asked.

"We're heading into a foggy area," he answered, "There could be trouble."

"Trouble, zura?" she repeated. A tiny spark of white light fizzed in front of her face like a dying star and disappeared.

"Ohh!" she gasped, "What was that, zura?" Autor gathered her into his cloak.

"That's the trouble," he said grimly. Another light like the first one blinked in and out, and another and another until the air was full of tiny white lights.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Fakir," said Malen, "It's my fault they're here." She showed him the picture she'd just finished of him and Autor fighting against the lights with their respective weapons.

"Don't worry about it," Fakir shook his head, "It's in the story."

It didn't take long for our heroes to see exactly why they were taking such precautions; soon enough, the tiny lights faded away to reveal themselves as smoky white fairies with wings like dragonflies. They didn't wear anything, but their bodies weren't detailed, either. They looked like they could have been wearing slim body suits.

"Mist pixies," Fakir called them, "No better than a will-o-the-wisp."

And he was right; no sooner did they reveal themselves than the Mist Pixies swarmed all around the boat like angry bees, giggling fiendishly as they attempted to confuse the young students and throw them off course. Autor shot an arrow into them, but to no effect.

"Save your arrows, Autor!" Fakir shouted above the noise as the boat turned in circles where it was, "It's no use!"

"Then what can we do?" he asked, shielding Uzura, "They'll capsize us!"

"Not if _I _can help it," Fakir replied, "Malen! See if you can draw me dancing with them!"

_"Dancing?"_ Autor repeated incredulously.

"I'll try!" Malen nodded, adjusted her glasses, and bent over her pad. Autor held the lantern for her while swatting the mischievous pixies away with his hand.

_Rip!_ A pixie laughed hysterically as it waved the little shred of paper it tore from the pad like a flag.

"Ah!" Malen cried out, "Stop that! Get away!"

"Here!" Autor took off his cloak, whipped it over her, and stuffed the lantern underneath with her. He then grabbed a fold of the cape and covered Uzura, then stood protectively in front of them with an arrow at the ready and his eye on Fakir.

The young writer stood at the prow in a ballet position: His right hand was raised straight up, his left arm out at the side, and his right foot was turned outward at the front with the left put back. It was similar to Mytho's grand pose from when he changed back into a prince. The pixies paused in their flurry, then some of them gathered into one body in front of the boat while the rest of them created a sort of dance floor. The first group created the shape of a normal-sized female, complete with wings. It was solid enough, but little more than a silhouette in looks. They seemed to have come to an understanding with Fakir, because when he leapt off the boat in his stag-like _grand-jete_, they allowed him to land solidly on their makeshift dance floor. Malen and Uzura poked their heads out from under the cape to see what was happening.

"What's he doing?" Malen asked. Autor knelt next to her.

"Speaking the only language pixies know," he answered, "He's going to dance us past them."

* * *

**Author's Review****:**  
The name Loys is the peasant alias for Albrecht, the prince from _Giselle_.

The Mist Pixies are my homage to the winter pixies from _Fantasia_. They're my favorite ones!

Question: Isn't "Dazed and Confused" the name of a movie or something? It sounded like one to me, hence the chapter title.

Next chapter goes back to what's happening in Mytho's kingdom, so stay tuned!


	8. Will O' The Wisp

Sorry for the delay! Life reared its ugly head! Life and Laziness!

Anyway, this chapter's going to be a bit shorter; it's sort of a connecting chapter, like a synapse in the brain, but there will be dancing from Fakir and the Mist Pixies!

The music I "used" for this chapter is called "Will-O-The-Wisp." I heard it on YouTube and was inspired by it; go on and listen to it! It's awesome! The cover pic has a funny stick man with a baton and a piano.

There's also a lot of inspiration from the ballet _Giselle._

* * *

_"Dance until you die!"_ – Bette Midler, _Hocus Pocus_

* * *

**Chapter 8: Will O' The Wisp**  
The first dance of the pixie was fluid, smooth, and almost too quick for Fakir to follow.

Almost.

With a Cheshire Cat smile on its face, the pixie danced in and out of his sight, one moment appearing behind a tree, another pirouetting around the boat. Fakir recognized the choreography as that of Queen Myrtha from _Giselle_, but the pixie was dancing in a more mischievous, distracting manner, and Fakir was in no mood to be distracted.

So when the pixie suddenly appeared by his side, he coolly caught hold of its wrist, cutting the music off. It fluttered its wings in surprise, then smiled again.

"Oh, dear," it said teasingly, "You don't like our dance, do you?"

"You should try something more substantial," he said, unfazed, "more honest."

"Honest?" it repeated. Fakir held its hand.

"You should let people _see_ your dance," he smiled, "instead of trying to mislead them."

"But how?" it asked with genuine insecurity, "We are made of mists. As soon as the sun breaks through, we will fade and no one will see us at all."

"It's all right," said Fakir, "People around here still believe in fairies and pixies, even sly ones like you. Even if they can't see you, they'll still know you're there. Now…" He held the hand up in an introductory pose. "Try dancing to this."

A quietly sneaky march began as Fakir led the pixie through a dance that was still mischievous but not as lightning fast as the first one.

"We like this dance!" the pixie smiled happily as it danced, "What is it?"

"It's called Funeral For A Marionette," he answered, "The story behind it is somewhat macabre, but the music suits your collective personality very well."

"You know us so well," the pixie said demurely, "And you feel so powerful. Who are you?" They finished their dance as the sun began to peek through.

"I'm the writer of this story," said Fakir, "and all of you are my creations."

"Ah," the pixie breathed wondrously, "That makes us so happy!" As the sun came shining through, the pixie body faded with the dance floor just as Fakir made it back to the boat. A million voices rose to the sky with two simple words:

"Thank you!"

Everyone looked up to see the pixies winking out of visibility like stars in a sunrise. Malen smiled softly.

"I'm so glad it turned out well," she said. Fakir nodded and sat down.

"Come on." He picked up the oars. "Let's push on."

* * *

"AAAAH!" the little girl screamed.

"Silence, you brat," Clara barked with a hand over the child's body, which was lying on the table on which she'd had Duck's body earlier.

"Please don't kill me," she whimpered.

"Silence!" Clara repeated, "That goody two shoes prince and his snippy princess have stolen the body that was to be mine. I must work with what I have now, so stay still!"

In a corner of the room, the other children of the palace servants were huddling together in a teary-eyed, terrified group with young Prince Hilarion glaring defiantly at the red-clad witch, trying to be brave in the face of danger. He was kneeling at the front of the group with his arms spread across as many of his friends as he could reach (which wasn't very many).

"Stop it, Clara!" he shouted, "You can't do this! Let her go!"

Ignoring his protests, Clara leaned over the girl and magically made her deadly knife appear in her hand. The children cried aloud and the prince shouted, "NO!"

_CHING!_ Clara's knife was stopped midway by a sword blade; she looked up with shock to see Hilarion's older brother, Prince Sigfried!

"Run, Odette," he said to the child while looking at Clara. Hilarion ran over and quickly helped her off the table and the two scampered back to the others.

"Hilarion," said Mytho, "take the other children out of here."

"Right," he nodded, "Come on, you guys."

"Not so fast, small man," Clara said cruelly as she barred their way, "I have need of your young bodies." Mytho shoved her away and brandished his sword.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

"You ought to know," she replied, staring daggers at him, "I spent a great deal of energy and resources to create that body. I have nothing left to make a new one and now that you have stolen it from me, I am left with the single option of taking the body of another."

"I already told you, Clara!" Mytho shouted, "That body was never yours to begin with! I paid you to create it for Duck and Duck alone! If anything, you're the one who tried to steal it from me! Now release these children at once and let's settle this!"

"And how can you hope to kill me in this form?" she challenged with her arms out, "As long as I am not flesh and blood, no one can kill me!"

"That doesn't make sense!" said Mytho, "Only your body would die!"

"It makes sense if you're under _my_ curse," she said drily.

"Curse or no," said the prince, "I will not allow you to harm an innocent child!" He charged at her!

"Then allow me to harm you instead!" she smiled and rushed to meet him.

* * *

"Thanks, Rue," Duck said as Rue tucked her back into bed.

"You're welcome," Rue beamed, "I'm not much of a nursemaid, but I do remember from school the importance of getting your exercise and keeping your body in tune. We'll have to do a few more of them every day until your strength comes back."

"Okay, Nurse Rue," Duck giggled, "Hey, uh, Rue? Would you do something for me?"

"Sure," she said, "What is it?"

"Would you mind dancing for me?"

"Sure," Rue smiled. She pranced to the middle of the room, where the sunlight poured through the window and puddled the floor, and struck a pose. "What would you like to see?"

"Anything," Duck smiled, "Whatever you like!" Rue beamed and nodded. Music magically started playing and the princess began to dance beautifully for her invalid friend. Suddenly, the light turned red and the ground vibrated. Rue pirouetted to turn to the window and looked out.

"What is it, Rue?" Duck asked. Rue looked over to Mytho's castle; a bolt of white lightning forked from the sky and seemed to strike it! Rue gasped.

"Mytho!" she whispered.

"Is he okay?" Duck asked nervously.

"Yes, I'm sure of it," the princess nodded bravely, "Don't worry, Duck. The tower is protected by strong magic; we'll be all right."

"Is it Clara?" said Duck, "Is he battling her?"

"Yes," she nodded again, "He has to. We had no idea how wicked she really was and now she's laid siege to the palace."

"This is all my fault," Duck said sadly at her canopy.

"No, Duck," Rue said gently and stroked her hair, "It's not your fault. Don't let yourself think that."

"Well, I still wish I could help," Duck sighed. Rue held one of her hands.

"You've helped us more than you know," she smiled, "Let us help _you_ now." Duck still looked worried, but there wasn't much she could do in her condition, so she trusted Rue and Mytho.

"I wonder," she mumbled with pink cheeks, "I wonder where Fakir is." Rue laid Duck's hand down and covered it with her own.

"Wherever he is," she said confidently, "I'm absolutely sure he's on his way to you." Duck smiled and nodded and the two girls stayed that way for a moment, each thinking of her young man.

* * *

**Author's Review****:**  
I know Clara probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense as a character or a villain, but I'm trying my best and hopefully it'll make better sense as you go along.

Okay, Funeral For A Marionette is a classical piece that you've heard as the theme from all those Alfred Hitchcock shows! Look it up! It's pretty cool!

Odette is the name of the main princess from _Swan Lake_, for those of you who don't know.

See you next time! I got stuff to do!


	9. Fire Dance or Carmina Burana

So sorry for the delay, guys, but my sister's home from her mission trip and she put her foot down about fan fictioning on her laptop (which I'm using). So I'll upload if you promise not to tell on me! ;P

Anyway, I'm super excited about this chapter because there's going to be some fire ballet action as well as the introduction of a new mysterious character! Hope you enjoy it!

Oh, and before you read this, you may want to go on YouTube and look up "Carmina Burana." I don't know who wrote it, but it's a big, dramatic score that I'm pretty sure has been used in movie trailers.

* * *

_"This is definitely real fire. I am very apologetic. I think everyone should leave." – _Schmidt, _New Girl_

* * *

**Chapter 9: Fire Dance or Carmina Burana**  
"Hm?" said Malen, "What's this?"

"What is it, Malen?" Autor asked.

"My sketch pad is warm," she replied quizzically, "_Very_ warm." She started flipping pages until she came to the warmest one, a still-life drawing of an old-fashioned oil lamp.

"Ah!" she cried out as she dropped the pad, "It's hot!"

"Then why isn't it on fire?" said Autor in genuine confusion.

"I know that lamp," said Fakir, "Duck had one just like it at school. She told me the spirit that lived in it had one of Mytho's heart shards. It was a fire spirit. After she became a duck, we brought it with us to my house."

"Is it inside my drawing?" Malen asked.

"I don't think so," he answered, "but I do think we'll see her soon. She was very attached to Duck."

"There's a light, zura!" Uzura pointed a drumstick to the bank on their left. Something that looked like a cast iron lantern was hanging from a willow tree, its light going in and out like a beacon. Fakir and Autor brought the boat to a smooth stop beside it and Uzura hopped up and down to reach it. Fakir moved her out of the way and carefully reached for it himself.

"Duck!" a voice cried from the lantern as it flashed. Fakir flinched.

"It's all right," he said clearly, "It's me, Fakir. You remember me, don't you?"

"Of course, but where's Duck?" said the light, "She disappeared and now I can't find her, no matter where I look. Do you know where she is?"

"We're looking for her, too," said Fakir, "If you come with us, I know we'll be able to find her."

"Really?" said the spirit, "If that's the case, I'll be happy to come with you!" Fakir lifted the lantern off the tree and hung it on a hook on the bow of the boat.

"You will be our light on the water," he declared, "shining our way through the darkness. With your affectionate glow, we will find the princess."

"Yes!" she shone joyously, "I will!" Her light brightened with joy and she directed it forward as Fakir and Autor shoved off.

"Your light is so warm and kind," Malen smiled, "You must love Duck very much."

"I do," the spirit said wistfully, "Ever since I met her, all I've wanted to do is shine for her. She said she loved me too, and that made me so happy that I wanted to shine even brighter. But that day, when she collapsed in the library, I fell into despair. I thought I'd never see her again."

"Oh, she's very much alive, I assure you," Autor spoke up, "Otherwise, we'd never have made it this far. A story like this cannot progress if its heroine is dead."

"I'm so glad," she sighed happily. The red pendant on Uzura's drum glowed.

"Ohh," she said, "We're getting close, zura!"

Fakir looked up; far ahead in the gathering twilight, he could see a tiny red spark from what looked like a tower.

"That's it!" he said, "That's where Duck is!"

"Yay!" Uzura cheered and played on her drum, "Duck! We're coming to Duck, zura! Hooray!"

"Uzura, stop!" Fakir suddenly said urgently, "Get down and be quiet!"

"Oh?" she said in surprise before Fakir moved her next to Malen. He grabbed his notebook and wrote furiously by the lantern's light while Malen drew and Autor rowed.

"What's happening, Fakir?" he asked.

"Something's coming," his cousin answered, "Fire spirit, can you change your size at will?"

"Yes, I can," her voice radiated.

"Then please do," said Fakir as he wrote, "Because something big is headed this way, something's that's strongly attracted to you."

"Don't worry." The fire spirit floated above them in her girl form. "I will protect you." The part of her form that looked like a skirt transformed itself into a tutu and her "hair" formed a bun with a tiara. She floated in front of the boat on two legs and waited.

With a mighty swoop of gigantic wings and a big dramatic entrance to "Carmina Burana," an enormous white moth descended from the sky until it loomed over them like an alien mothership.

The fire spirit began to dance on the part that started out quietly and with each bobbing line of the choir sound, she leapt and led it further away from her new companions. When they modulated, she flitted from side to side across the water en pointe. Everywhere she went, the moth followed, as moths are wont to do with flames.

When the choir got loud, she began to spin on one foot while kicking the other out to the side. The water around her feet swirled with every turn, even thought she wasn't touching it, and it boiled underneath her. As the moth came nearer, she grew in size and spun faster with her hands in a circle and her foot to her knee. Flames came flaring form her tutu at random and licked at the monster's wings. She was just about to deliver the final blow when an arrow flew from nowhere through her flames. She watched in surprise as it not only got huge and caught fire, but shot straight through the moth's heart on the cymbal-crashing burst of music. With a roar of rage, the moth crashed into the river; the spirit disappeared and returned to the boat, which was in danger!

"Stay down!" Autor pushed Malen under the seat. She put her sketch pad in her waterproof bag with Fakir's notepad and held tightly onto Uzura while the boys tried to keep the boat from floundering. A man's voice called out to them.

"HOLD ON!"

A grappling hook came sailing over their heads and landed in the water on the starboard side; the boys seized the rope immediately and pulled their way to the tree the rope was tied to. Fakir saw a man standing on a limb in a cloak, but it was too dark to see his face. Just then, a huge wave engulfed the boat! They kept a tight grip, but then Fakir heard Autor scream "MALEN!" and saw him dive for her. The only thing he could do was keep pulling the rope and try to keep Uzura and the lamp spirit inside.

The cloaked man pulled the boat ashore; the second he had Uzura on dry land, Fakir ran into the water. He only got waist-deep before he saw Autor trudging up to him as fast as he could with Malen lying like a soaked doll in his arms.

"_Get out of the way!"_ Autor shouted in a panicky tone. He went right past Fakir, knelt down, and laid her out on the ground to apply a dose of the good old-fashioned Kiss of Life. Uzura stood by Fakir and watched.

"Ohh," she said, "Fakir? Is Autor lovey-dovey with Malen, zura?"

"No, Uzura," he sighed, "He's helping her breathe." She thought for a moment.

"I don't get it, zura," she commented, "Who are _you_, zura?"

Fakir looked up at their mysterious rescuer, who was hunched over the lantern, reviving the fire spirit.

"It's all right, dear," the man murmured kindly, "You can wake up now."

The tiny ember in the lantern slowly became the familiar glow of the spirit again.

"Thank you," she said weakly, "Who are you?" The man stood up and handed the lantern to Fakir.

"You can call me Rey," he said and put down his hood. He had short, well-trimmed black hair, a close-cut beard, and dark eyes of a very familiar color.

"Malen." Fakir's attention turned to Autor; he'd revived Malen!

"You're all right," Autor sighed with immense relief, "Thank God." Malen carefully sat up with fear and confusion. She looked at Autor and remembered what happened.

"Thank you," she croaked as tears poured from her eyes. Autor held her closely and tried to calm her.

"Malen?" Uzura asked, "Are you okay, zura?"

"Yes," she smiled through her tears, "Thank you, Uzura."

"I'll prepare a fire," said Rey, "Perhaps you could assist me, _fraulein feuer?"_

"Of course," came the answer from the lamp.

"He's right," said Fakir as he knelt by his friends, "We should rest for a while, especially you two. Do you feel all right, Malen?"

"I think so," she nodded, "I managed to put our paper in the bag before the water hit us, so it should all be okay."

"What about him?" Autor nodded at Rey, "Do you think we can trust this man? Just because he saved us doesn't mean he's friendly."

"We can," Fakir answered confidently, "I don't know how I know, but we can definitely trust him. I'll help him set up camp. You two take a breather."

The young writer stood on the shore for a moment; a sickle moon was pouring its silvery light onto the surface of the water. You wouldn't have known there had been a disaster like the one they just had. He looked far off to his left, where the tower stood like a proud, dark citadel under the moon and stars. In his heart as well as his hand, he knew that she was up there, waiting for him to come for her.

_'I'm almost there, Duck,'_ he thought, _'Just hold on a while longer.'_

* * *

Clara faltered and stumbled to her knees. Mytho jumped back and waited.

"Listen, Clara," he panted, "Night has fallen and even you can't possibly go this long without a break."

"I admit you are right," she said, "Perhaps a rest period is in order."

"I was hoping you'd say that," said Mytho. A golden birdcage materialized around her.

"A spirit cage," she observed, "Very vigilant, little prince. No spirit can escape this."

"I give you my word as a prince," he declared, "This battle will not end until I've destroyed you. Thus, I promise to release you at sunrise." He turned to the still-scared and now emotionally raw children. "Come, children. You were all witnesses to my vow. Return to your families now and go with my blessing of sweet dreams."

It was all they could do to make their bows and curtsies and mumble their thanks as they dragged their feet out of the room. The child named Odette swooned on her feet, so Mytho picked her up and carried her out. He turned halfway back to Clara and the look he gave her said that this wasn't over, not by a long shot.

* * *

**Author's Review****:**  
I know what you're thinking: Why didn't he just cage her in the first place?

The answer is: The same reason you don't just cage a household pest; you have to kill it in order to eliminate the threat. That's also why he's not going to keep her in the cage forever.

I named Rey after Rudolf Nureyev, the world famous (now dead) male ballet dancer. He becomes a super-important character, so I hope you guys like him. He'll be speaking a lot of German phrases, in keeping with the Grimm/Andersen spirit (except Andersen was Dutch). He basically just called the fire spirit "Miss Fire." He likes to use terms of endearment, especially on the girls, as you'll learn in later chapters.

How did the fire spirit get in the lantern in the middle of nowhere? Fakir wrote her in. That's going to be my answer to pretty much every question in this story, because Fakir wrote it that way (and because _I _wrote it that way).

I changed a lot of the adverbs in this chapter because I realized I was throwing around the word "very" like a bajillion times and that's no good, especially since I saw this quote on Pinterest by Robin Williams that had something to do with not using "very" too much in writing. I didn't realize I was even doing that until I started typing up the chapter. I hope you liked how I fixed it!

Any more questions? Y'all know what to do! Peace out til next time!


	10. The Ladies of Shallot

Okay, now I'm back on the family PC, so there's a greater chance of typos (our keyboard's not the best; I really should buy us a new one).

This one might be a bit shorter, and I'll go ahead and warn you that there'll be some censorship used here (strong language—or, at least, what _I _consider strong language).

Fakir fangirls, PREPARE TO HAVE YOUR FEELS BRUISED. There's a lot of heart-wrenching for Fakir in this one!

Oh, I don't own the chapter title, but I did tweak it. _The Lady of Shallot_ is a long and beautiful poem written by the great Alfred Lord Tennyson. It was given music and made into an epic song by the singer Loreena McKenitt as well; it's really cool (she also did Alfred Noyes' _The Highwayman_. I guess she likes poets named Alfred! LOL) I always thought it would be awesome to do a semblance of that poem in _Princess Tutu,_ the way they did all those other stories and poems! So I did it myself! Hope you like it!

* * *

_"Ladies first."_ – Kuzco, _The Emperor's New Groove_

* * *

**Chapter 10: The Ladies of Shallot**  
Prince Sigfried stood in the same room in which he'd caged Clara the evening before; the witch was kneeling patiently on the floor of her cage and both were waiting for the first rays of dawn to come peeking through the pines.

Finally, that first spark of sunshine winked into the sky like a fairy and the sun slowly began to rise in the room. It crawled up the bodies of the prince and the witch, but neither broke eye contact. The witch smiled.

"Tell me, prince," she asked, "Did you enjoy your time without a heart?"

"How did you know about that?" he narrowed his eyes.

"Come," she said, "Let us do battle."

"Very well," said the prince. If she wouldn't answer civilly, he'd have to beat it out of her. He cast the spell that released her from the cage.

Then all hell broke loose.

* * *

Fakir stirred and woke up; he'd felt some sort of disturbance and felt the need to write. He knelt close to the lantern with a blanket around his shoulders and his notepad on his knees.

He took a moment to look around at his travel companions. The mist was thinner around their campsite than anywhere else, especially around the embers of the fire. Malen was sleeping on her side with her own blanket draped over herself and Uzura, who was using her tummy for a pillow. And was he wrong or was that Autor's school jacket under Malen's head? He looked over at him; he was sitting against a tree, slumped over with sleep, his blanket loose on his back and his bow and arrows leaning on him. He must've fallen asleep on his watch.

Fakir looked around for Rey and found him standing by the boat on the riverside. The young boy pulled his blanket around himself and walked over to join him.

"Rey," he said quietly, "Is everything all right?"

"No," the man answered, "Something is very wrong."

"I know," said Fakir, "I feel it, too."

"The tower's not so far now," said Rey, "If she's going to be saved, we'd better move fast and soon."

"Why do you want to help us?" Fakir asked, "Why have you helped us so far?"

"I have my reasons," he said, "I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. I _can_ protect you and your friends, but I must ask you to have patience with me."

"Let me ask you one thing," said Fakir, "How do you know why we're here?"

"I read your story while you were sleeping," said Rey, "I could also see you were headed toward the tower, so I concluded that we are on the same journey."

"I see." Fakir turned and looked at the others. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning cut through the sky beyond the forest that turned the sky red! It shook the ground and made them stumble.

"What the h-was that?" Fakir exclaimed.

"Fakir!" Malen called, "It's the witch!"

He ran back to her; she showed him her latest sketch, a beautiful but evil witch in combat with a prince.

"Mytho!" he gasped, "We have to go! Now!" He grabbed their stuff and packed it quickly. "Malen, you stay with Autor! Uzura, stay with me!"

"Whoa!" Uzura exclaimed as he grabbed her hand, "What's happening, zura?"

"Everybody in!" said Rey with the boat ready. Fakir popped Uzura in and Malen and Autor quickly hopped in. Rey and Fakir pushed off while Autor started rowing.

"Forget the oars," Rey said, "I'll take care of this." He gripped both sides of the boat and murmured something. Then he said "Hold on tight!" and the boat sped off downriver! The kids were knocked back a bit, but they regained their seats and held onto the sides. Uzura got excited and started playing her drum.

They were only a couple of hundred feet away now; in fact, they were skimming through the lake of lilies when another bolt of lightning struck the island right next to the tower!

"DUCK!" Fakir cried. Sensing the urgency, Rey put on an extra burst of speed and actually ran the boat ashore. The writer jumped out and bee-lined it for the tower.

"Fakir!" Autor called, "Wait!" But waiting was no longer an option for Fakir; now his only priority was getting to duck before something horrible happened. He shoved his way inside and tore up the winding staircase with Rey on his heels.

"I'm coming, Duck!" he shouted desperately. He was so close now, he could feel her in his arms already. They saw the door at the top of the stairs!

"Duck!" he burst into the room with Rey at his shoulder. He whipped his head around, looking for her messy pink hair.

But no one was there.

"She's gone," Rey whispered, "_Meine Himmel,_ she's gone!"

Fakir stood numb with shock as he stared at the rose-laden bed she was supposed to still be in. His heart lurched within him and started to climb out of his chest. To keep it from exploding, he gasped for air and stumbled to the window. He leaned out and screamed her name with such anguish as could rip the sky in two.

_**"**__**DUCK**__**!"**_

* * *

The first few moments of that sunrise brought a rude awakening to the princess and her friend; that jolt brought on by the witch's lightning had rocked the tower and terrified them into consciousness.

"What was that?" Duck exclaimed as she tried to sit up. Rue caught herself against the window sill and looked out toward the castle. Then she looked down at the lake; half a dozen inky black figures were swimming toward the island! She didn't worry until she saw them slip through the barrier of magic surrounding it! She gasped loudly and backed away.

"What's wrong, Rue?" Duck asked. Rue turned and ran to her.

"We have to go," she said, "Our magic protection has been breached! Something's coming after us!" She grabbed two cloaks from the wall, sat Duck up and wrapped her in one, then put the other on herself. She slung on a couple of food and water bags and carefully picked Duck up out of the bed with her arms around her waist.

"Brace yourself," she said. Duck nodded and held on tight. Rue stomped on the floor twice and the board gave way beneath them. They slid the length of the tower down a secret chute and came out at a waterway that would go right to the back end of the lake. A boat was waiting for them; the princess laid her friend inside and climbed in beside her. She tapped the boat with her palm.

"Go!" she ordered. The boat magically came to life and obeyed her command. It was only halfway to the lake, however, when the second lightning bolt struck the island; it sent the boat surfing the rest of the way with the girls freaking out, getting knocked to and fro the whole time. They finally spun out at the mouth of the lake.

"Hey, Rue," said Duck, "You okay?"

She didn't answer.

"Rue!" she panicked, "Come on! Talk to me!" But the impact had knocked the princess out cold. Now Duck was alone on a lake in a body that didn't work with an unconscious princess; she was quite literally a sitting duck.

It was about that moment that she heard a sound she had longed for ever since she awoke.

She heard Fakir calling out her name.

"Ah!" she cried and tried to sit up with tears in her eyes, "FAK—mmph!" A hand covered her mouth.

"Not so loud, little Duck," a voice slithered in her ear, "The mistress has need of you."

"_**Mmm!"**_ she screamed behind the hand. From the sound of it, Fakir was mere meters away! She just had to call out for him! If only she could get free!

_'Fakir!'_ she cried in her head, _'Fakir, help me! I can't move!'_

* * *

Malen wondered what had happened up there as she reviewed some of her sketches. She went back to a particular drawing of Duck lying in a boat with roses in her hands. She gasped in shock.

"Autor, look!" she showed it to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"This drawing," she explained, "I drew it yesterday, but…"

"But what?" he prompted.

"There are lilies around the boat." She looked haunted. "I didn't draw those!" His eyes widened.

"Well, we're on a lake full of lilies," he observed, "Perhaps that's why they appeared."

"Or could she possibly be on the lake with us?" said Malen. As if in answer, Uzura's red pendant glowed.

"Duck!" Uzura exclaimed and played her drum, "She's somewhere close, zura!"

Autor started rowing around the left side of the island and Malen looked around with her sharp artist's eyes.

"There's a boat!" she pointed straight ahead. Something in Autor's mind—perhaps his role in the story, or perhaps some instinct of a Drosselmeyer descendant—told him that the black cloaked figure standing in the other boat was an enemy. He drew an arrow, aimed high, and released.

_"Yes!"_ he clenched a fist when he saw the figure reel and collapse into the water, "Hurry! Let's go get her!"

"Autor!" Fakir called form the tower window, "What's happening?"

"Duck is on the lake!" he answered as he rowed, "She's in a boat behind the island!"

"We'll meet you there!" said Fakir, "Come on, Rey."

Autor rowed as hard as he possibly could; Malen quickly did a new drawing of Fakir while he and Rey ran across the island along the waterway.

"There's another guy, zura!" Uzura pointed. Another black figure slunk out of the water and into Duck's boat!

_"Hold on, Duck!"_ cried Fakir, _"We're coming!"_

But the figure was already casting the spell that lifted the boat from the lake. Autor fired another arrow and killed him, realizing too late that the boat would fall back in, which it did.

"DUCK!" Fakir plowed his way into the water and swam for all he was worth. Rey followed him again, doffing his cloak as he ran in. While he dove for the princess, Fakir went for Duck. He'd seen Rue fall in, so he could only assume that Duck was still safe in the boat.

Fakir grabbed onto the boat and looked inside; once again, he was disappointed.

Duck was gone.

Rey surfaced with the princess in his arms; she was still unconscious.

"Fakir!" he gasped for air, "Is Duck all right?"

"I don't know." He sounded hollow. "She's gone again." He clenched his fists in frustration and anger.

"D—it," his voice shook, _"D—it!"_ He gripped the boat and threw his head up.

_**"**__**CLARA**__**!"**_ his voice exploded.

* * *

Mytho whipped his head in the direction of his mother's tower.

"That sounds like…" His eyes widened in shock. "Fakir!" He sounded furious, too! That could only mean one thing!

He slashed his sword angrily down Clara's body and knocked her down.

"What have you done to them?" he demanded of her, "Where are my princess and my friend?" She knocked him back with her own burst of angry power.

"Your lachrymose foundling is nothing to me," she said bitterly, "It's that body I want!"

_"No!"_ he shouted, "I'll never let you have it, Clara!" He raised his sword to finish her off, but she magically stopped him with her hand. Lightning shot out and shocked him. His eyes screwed shut from the pain and he cried out.

Miles away in the tower, the writer hesitated to hear the cries of pain he knew came from his prince.

_'No,'_ he thought, _'I won't hesitate any longer!'_

* * *

**Author's Review****:**  
Like a lot of people, I first heard the word "lachrymose" in the third _A Series of Unfortunate Events_ book series. I looked it up and it basically means "easily prone to tears," and let's face it, Rue cries more than any character in the show. Years after reading those books, I got on Netflix and discovered _Black Butler_. The second half of the first season uses a song called "Lachrymosa" as its end credits song. It's by a Japanese girl group called _Kalafina_; I highly recommend them. They have excellent and dramatic music with some amazing violin action!

The last time I wrote a story involving censorship and strong language was when I wrote my Kingdom Hearts epic, _The Hunt for the Hearts._ For some reason, I created an angry twelve-year-old daughter of Xehanort. She ended up being a bad guy turned good and was adopted by Riku's parents. If you haven't read it, I'd recommend it to any Kingdom Hearts fan, but please bear in mind that I wrote it BEFORE they came out with _Birth by Sleep._ So don't get all "why isn't Xion in it" on me.

Hope you enjoyed this, despite all the Feels destruction! Please review!


	11. Bellycrawl

Okay, so Duck's been kidnapped, Fakir is _seriously_ pissed off, and everybody's freaking out! What's a body to do? Just keep reading, I guess.

This one might be a bit shorter, but we'll finally get a little Duck action! Enjoy!

* * *

_"I did not come across the world to lose you now."_ – Westley, _The Princess Bride_ (the book)

* * *

**Chapter 11: Bellycrawl**  
Fakir was in rare form as he and Malen bent over their paper pads. The words almost came faster than he could write them and he was grateful for it. He had let Duck slip through his fingers _twice_ now; he would _not_ let it happen again! He remembered being in a nearly catatonic state when Autor came over in their boat, practically pried his hands off the other one, and all but dragged him aboard. Now the writer was bent over his story in the light of the tower window. They all decided to make the tower their home base. While Fakir and Malen worked, Autor kept watch at the window and Uzura joined Rey at the bedside, where Rue was sleeping.

"We must be very quiet, Uzura," the man said, "Let the princess wake up when she's ready."

"Okay," she nodded, "but where's Duck, zura?"

"I don't know," Rey sighed sadly, "but wherever she is, I'm sure she's safe."

Uzura looked down with a sad face; she started to cry a bit, so Rey picked her up and held her in his lap.

"Don't cry, _kinder_," he said, "Keep your chin up. Everything will be all right."

"What'll happen to her now, zura?" she asked pitifully. Fakir looked up and sighed. He closed his pad and walked over.

"Come on, Uzura." He picked her up. "Let's go for a walk."

"No!" she objected as he carried her out, "I want Duck, zura!"

"Poor Uzura," said Malen, "She must love Duck very much."

"Yes," said Autor, "She does." He remembered how attached she was to her while he was training Fakir.

"Ouch," Malen winced and nursed her drawing hand.

"Here." Autor gently took it and started massaging it.

"Um…" she blushed, "Thank you. I, uh…"

"What?"

"Um," she said shyly, "Thank you for saving me…earlier."

"Don't mention it," he said without looking up.

"I guess I should learn how to swim, huh?" she chuckled.

"Maybe next time," he half-smiled, "For now, just stick close to a swimmer."

"Heh-heh," she smiled, "I will." She stood up. "I think I'll take a break and check on Uzura." Autor watched her go and stood himself. He looked at Rey.

"Any advice?" he asked. Rey smirked with amusement.

"Just keep doing what you're doing," he answered, "and don't leave her side for a moment, not until this story is over." Autor looked thoughtful for a moment; then he nodded and left the room. Now there were only Rey and the princess.

The princess stirred and opened her eyes. She looked groggy for a bit, but then a look of horror slapped itself on her face.

"DUCK!" she shot up, "DUCK, WHERE ARE YOU?" She looked at Rey and backed away across the bed, "Who are you? Where's Duck? What have you done with her?"

"My name is Rey, _mein prinzessin_," he said calmly, "I came here with Fakir and his friends! We've come to rescue Duck!"

"If you've come to rescue her, then where is she?" she demanded, "The last thing I remember is taking her away in the boat and those shadow things were chasing us, and—" She stopped. The blood drained from her face.

"Yes," he answered her unasked question, "They've taken her to the witch."

A cry of shock came from the princess' lips as tears poured down her face. "No…!" She got off the bed and covered her face. She ran around the bed and tripped; she threw her arms out and found them securely caught by the strong hands of the stranger. She looked up at him from her half-fallen position with anguish in her wet face.

"What'll we do now?" she cried, "What _can_ we do?" Rey looked sadly down at her and lifted her to her feet. He then knelt to her and held one of her hands to his lips.

"Princess," he said fervently, "Command me and I will obey." Rue blushed through her tears.

"I don't like to give commands," she said, "but please, if you can…save my friend! Save her and bring her back out to a place where she'll be safe!" Rey bowed, stood, pulled up his hood, and left the tower through the secret exit. Seconds later, Fakir burst back into the room.

"Rue, you're awake!" he said, "We heard you scream!"

"Fakir!" she grabbed him, "The witch! She sent her shadows to capture Duck!"

"I know," he said seriously, "I saw it happen and I tried to stop it." He looked around. "Where's Rey?"

"He left," she said strangely, "He…he went to save Duck from the witch. He asked me to command him but I only asked him."

"He went without us?" Autor popped.

"Oh," said Fakir, not surprised, "That explains why I wrote him in just now…or vice versa." He sighed again. "Well, if he's going to get her out of there, I'm going to be the one who makes sure he does."

And right then and there, Fakir sat on the side of the bed and continued to write.

* * *

Clara smiled her evil smile and she blasted Mytho back. She then cast a spell that arrested his limbs, forbidding any movement. She brought him over to her.

"Come, Your Highness," she said, "I believe you have a royal guest."

"What are you talking about?" he asked intensely. She led him out of the room.

"I took the liberty of sending a few of my darling shadows to your mother's tower," she explained as they went, "Don't worry about your princess, now. I already told you I care nothing for her."

"Duck," he realized out loud.

"Bingo!" she chimed, "My, how smart you are!"

"I swear on my sword, Clara," he seethed, "If you touch even one hair on that girl's head, I'll—"

"What?" she taunted, "Dance me to death like a male Wili? Ha!"

She stopped at a door that was intricately carved with vines and flowers. Her hand touched the curved handle.

"Clara, don't!" Mytho shouted. But the witch ignored him and opened the door…

Into an empty room.

The prince and the witch both looked shocked and for once, they had the same thought: _Where was she?_

"Impossible," said Clara as she ran inside, "She must be here!" She searched under the only bed, the hutch, even checked for loose floorboards. "She can't have vanished!" She grabbed Mytho by the shirt.

"What have you done?" she shook him, "Who did you get to steal my body?"

"I've been too busy fighting you to give any commands and you know it," he answered calmly, "Besides, this entire wing is deserted. There's no one here to give orders to!"

"Well, she can't have just gotten up and walked out on her own!" she exclaimed in frustration, "She hasn't even the strength to stand!" She released him and turned away. "Where are my shadows? They should be guarding her!" She held out a hand palm-up and it flared up with a brief fire. An image of her shadow servants appeared. They were lying down.

"What?" she exhaled, "They're dead!" She put her hand down. "Something's astir here. The girl could never have killed them on her own."

"She would never kill at all," Mytho added, "Someone's here for her." Clara looked at the prince with a scrutinizing eye.

"Yes," she grabbed him, "and you're going to tell me who."

* * *

As a matter of fact, Duck had been belly-crawling two floors above them at the moment Clara came in. The only strength she currently had was in her arms, thanks to Rue's nursing exercises. She didn't know where the shadows were that had taken her, but as long as she was alone, that meant she had the chance to escape.

So here she was, dragging her dead weight body on her tiny arms, with no idea where she was or how to get to safety…or, for that matter, if there was any safety to be found!

"I've got to find Rue," she strained to herself, "She'll be so worried."

"Peekaboo!" a shadow popped up and scared her, "My partner may be busy, but I think I can handle you."

"No!" she cried helplessly and shut her eyes tight. But the cold, hard grip she expected never came. Instead came the gurgling cry of a minion being slaughtered and the thump of a body hitting the ground. She looked to see her pursuer dead before her!

"I'm sorry, my lady," said a man's voice behind her, "I must've missed that one."

"Who are you?" she turned and asked. He offered her his hand.

"My name is Rey," he smiled, "It's an honor to meet you at last."

Duck took his hand, feeling a strange sense of trust from him. He looked familiar too, but she couldn't explain it.

"Thank you," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck, "but why are you doing this?"

"Let's just say I'm holding you for a friend," he answered with a smile before carrying her off.

* * *

**Author's Review****:**  
Several weeks have gone by between the chapter and this Author Note; there are a few good reasons for this.

1\. My parents can't stop watching Netflix.  
2\. My sister has forbidden me to use her laptop for fan fiction (haters gonna hate).  
3\. I just took a second job (McDonald's—not the most glamorous job ever, but I just don't make enough with my current job at the grocery store deli) and it's very energy-draining. But the good news is that I've had a stroke of inspiration concerning this story! (I came up with a better ending!)

So please have patience with me; I know you guys are waiting on me (and believe me, that is a real confidence booster), and I'll get back to you with chapter 12 as soon as I can.

P.S. – I'm saving up for my own laptop so that reasons 1 and 2 no longer have to be relevant! Wish me luck! (In case you want to know, I've got my eye on a MacBook Pro!)


	12. Spellbound

Hey, everybody! I'm back! My gosh, this summer heat's been miserable! It's like summer said "I ain't goin' down without a fight, ya fools!" Bleh! I don't care what Olaf says; I freaking hate summer! I much prefer fall and winter! They're more artistic!

Speaking of winter, I made up a head canon (which I usually don't do) that Jack Frost and Jamie are Elsa and Anna reincarnated. My theory is that Elsa gave up her life to save her kingdom and/or sister and dissolved into snow (because Disney does magic deaths) and her spirit flew to the moon, where it made friends with the Man in the Moon. A couple of hundred years later, MiM sends that same spirit of winter into the boy who would become Jack Frost. As for Anna, her soul just followed Elsa's because of how much she loves her sister. That's my theory on why Jack and Elsa look alike.

Actually, if you want to be honest about it, the REAL reason they both look the way they do is because _**THAT IS THE CLICHÉ IMAGE FOR ANY CHARACTER WITH SNOW POWERS**_. Think about it! The White Witch, the original Snow Queen, every version of Jack Frost ever made (even the crappy ones), they all have white hair and blue eyes! That's the image of winter, so that's what the character gets! You ever notice that? The only snow power character that _didn't_ look like that was the boy from the first X-Men movie (I forget his name, but he was the guy that made Rogue her own ice rose, which was awesome).

But that's my head canon! If you go on my Pinterest account, you'll see that I made a meme about it (I also put it on my tumblr account).

But you're not here to read my stupid ramblings about winter characters (but we've got to beat the heat _somehow_). You're here to see what happens next as the kind and mysterious Rey attempts to rescue Duck from Mytho's besieged castle! So without any further ado…

* * *

_"Hideki says look both ways, raise your arm, and cross the street."_ – Chi, _Chobits_

* * *

**Chapter 12: Spellbound**  
"Um, Rey," Duck asked, "Do you know where we are?"

"Prince Sigfried's castle," he said as he looked both ways, "He has the entire place on lockdown. It wasn't easy to get in here and it won't be easy getting out."

"Prince Sigfried," Duck repeated, "You mean Mytho?"

"If that's what you call him." He turned right.

"He's here, fighting the witch?" she burst, "Is he okay?"

"I don't know," he said, "I only came for you. My priority is to get you back to your friends."

"Is the princess all right?" she remembered, "She got knocked out from all the commotion!"

"She's fine," he said, "I left her back at the tower with your writer."

"Fakir." Her cheeks turned pink. "He's really here then, isn't he?"

"Oh, yes," Rey smiled, "And he's quite anxious to see you again."

"What?" she popped and turned red, "N-n-no, no way! He couldn't possibly be…!"

Rey laughed and held her head with his free hand.

"You're adorable, Duck," he couldn't help saying, "I like you more every minute."

"Um, thank you," she mumbled, feeling a strange sort of twinge in her heart towards the strong, kind man that was risking his life to save her; it wasn't romantic or anything. It was something she didn't have a name for because she'd never felt it before. Whatever it was, she liked it.

"There she is!" shouted a voice from up ahead, "Get her! Kill the man but don't harm the girl! The mistress wants that body safe!"

"Uh-oh," said Rey, "Looks like we've got company." He moved Duck to his left arm so he could draw his sword. "Hold on tight, Duck. Keep your head down."

She obeyed him by burying her face in his neck while he fought back the shadow minions that attacked. They were as easy to vanquish as the crows from the last story.

"My apologies to your mistress," he said as he beat one back, "but I've got dibs."

More shadows appeared and began to chase them down the hall, but there were even more coming from the other end! They were cut off! Rey was backed against a door when a magnificent white swan curled its wings around them. Duck looked and saw Princess Tutu, faint against it, with her arms out! She opened her eyes and smiled.

"Go now," she said serenely, "I will distract them."

Rey didn't wait a second to magically unlock that door and back into it.

"So _that_ was Princess Tutu," he said as he leaned against it.

"Yeah," she replied shakily, "She really saved us, didn't she?"

"Duck?" said a soft voice, "Is that you?"

Rey held her close and brandished his sword.

"Who's there?" he called. The person to whom the voice belonged stepped into a shaft of light.

"_Mytho!_" Duck gasped, "It's you!" The prince smiled brightly and jogged up to them. Rey sheathed his sword and Duck reached out to him. He gently took her hands in his.

"It's been a long time, Duck," he said happily, "You look wonderful!"

"Thanks," she smiled and blushed, "So do you! This is Rey; he came to save me!"

"Your Highness," Rey bowed.

"Pleased to meet you, Sir Rey," said the prince, "Thank you for your help." He summoned his sword again. "Come," he said, "I'll see you out before Clara finds you." He opened the door but stopped dead in the doorway. Rey and Duck saw a floating spirit girl in a flimsy red tutu.

"I'm sorry," she smiled evilly, "Did I hear my name mentioned just now?"

* * *

Two swords stood between Clara and Duck, the swords of a prince and a warrior. The witch looked flatly at them.

"You don't really think you're going to defeat me with those, do you?" she said lazily.

"You're not taking this body, Clara," Mytho said for perhaps the hundredth time, "It's already inhabited by a much purer soul than your own."

"Not for long," she said viciously and charged them. After knocking Mytho to the side, she assaulted Rey with a barrage of blows with her razor sharp fingernails. He blocked them perfectly, but then she pulled a fast one by grabbing his sword with one hand and Duck with the other!

"NO!" Rey shouted when Clara shoved him away. Weak as she was, Duck was helpless to resist the witch as she laid her on the ground with one hand back, her nails poised to rob her of her new life.

"The sharp knife of a short life," she snarled.

_"NO!"_ Duck's cry echoed as the final blow began to descend.

_WHOOSH!_ Clara was stopped and blown back in a blinding flash of light!

"Stop!" a gentle voice commanded. Clara's eyes wavered in shock and awe at the nearly divine being now firmly yet gently barring her way.

"Princess Tutu!" her voice trembled. She moved to a kneeling position. Rey took advantage of the opportunity to rush to Duck's side.

"Come, Duck," he said quietly as he took hold of her, "We've been here too long. Mytho?"

"Yes, I'm all right," the prince replied, "What's happening?"

"The witch has tasted her own medicine and fallen under a spell," he answered as he stood with Duck in his arms. Clara glared at him and prepared to attack, but Tutu blocked her again.

"You mustn't!" she said urgently but still in her unassuming, caring way.

"I don't understand," Mytho said in confused fascination, "Why does she seem to be obeying her?"

"Because she has no choice," Rey answered as he stepped back, turned and ran. Mytho joined him.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You said she'd fallen under a spell," Duck said.

"She has." Rey looked both ways and went right. "Or rather, she was already under it."

"Impossible," said Mytho, "Tutu has power, but she cannot cast spells!"

"She doesn't have to," he said, "She's a part of it. And it's not her spell; it's his."

"Whose?" Duck asked.

Back down the previous hallway, Tutu invited Clara to dance.

When the three got outside to the ramparts, Mytho realized the answer.

"Drosselmeyer!"

It was that exact moment that a hideous creature chose to rear its ugly head out of the castle lake, a strange-looking hybrid between dragon and raven.

"Ahh," Rey groaned in frustration, _"Gib mir eine Pause!"_ He carefully set Duck down so that she sat against the wall. "Your writer is an admirable young man, _meine kinder,_ but I might have to speak to him about the monsters he writes in."

Duck giggled, knowing that so far, Fakir had little control over his gift. After giving a small smile, Rey unsheathed his sword and leapt into battle with Mytho.

* * *

**Author's Review****:**  
So this was a pretty short chapter, compared to some of the previous ones, for which I apologize. Once again, I'm using the family PC. I don't know how long it'll be before I post again, but please bear with me! I'm working super hard to get that lappy!

Special request to any of you who happen to know German: Am I even close with these phrases? I looked them up online on some kind of international translator thingy, but I don't know if these are conversationally accurate, so please, if you know any German, please let me know!

I gotta go, so please send me your questions and stuff! See you later!


	13. Drosselmeyer's Spell

(sigh) Life.

Sometimes it rocks, sometimes it sucks. It catapults you to the stars or it kicks you in the gut.

I've recently received a serious kick in the gut from that you-know-what called Life. If you want to know the details, Review me, but it involves divorce. If any of you have experience with this, PLEASE let me know, 'cause I'm going to need lots of advice. This is something I've never had to go through before and I'm going over a roller coaster of emotions. I'm going to need advice, support, prayers, or even just good thoughts! And, of course, your lovely reviews for the story!

I'm sorry to say this will be a short chapter, but it's another set-up chapter as well, one of those stage-setter kind of things, so please enjoy and review!

* * *

_"How many times do I have to kill you, boy?!"_ – Jafar, _Aladdin_

* * *

**Chapter 13: Drosselmeyer's Spell**  
"Princess Tutu," Clara said, still mystified, "You're everything the story told of and more."

"Thank you," Tutu nodded modestly, "Please, won't you come dance with me?"

"Of course," the witch answered, "To dance with a creation of Drosselmeyer's…is a dream I never believed possible!"

"Come, then." Tutu lowered her arms and magic glowed beneath their feet. They were soon standing in a courtyard on the rooftop of the castle; they could see the creature of the lake dodging and rearing as it fought Mytho and Rey. Tutu began an elaborate freestyle routine to music that was both beautiful for ballet and dramatic for battle.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the tower, Malen had just finished sketching the monster and now her heart was pounding hard for some reason. It was something to do with the drawing but she wasn't sure what. It made her sing a line and she danced while she sang it.

_A penny for my thoughts?  
Oh, no! I'll sell 'em for a dollar  
They're worth so much more  
after I'm a goner_

Everyone watched her curiously; she blushed but was compelled to continue.

_And maybe then you'll hear  
the words I've been singing_

She stopped suddenly and looked fearfully out the window.

_Funny when you're dead  
how people start listening_

Rue looked shocked at Malen and whipped her head toward the castle.

"Fakir," she said urgently, "We have to go."

The writer slapped his pad closed—not in response, but rather in conjunction with Rue. He looked intensely at his companions and Autor could tell the time for Fakir to simply write had come to a halt; now was the time for action.

Fakir stood up.

"Uzura," he declared, "I have a job for you."

"Yes, sir, zura!" she saluted with a drumstick, "Uzura's ready, zura!"

Fakir plucked her up and set her on the windowsill facing outside.

"Play, Uzura," he smiled, "Play as loud as you can!"

"Okay!" she chimed and proceeded to pound on her drum.

* * *

The drumming could be heard all the way from the castle; Clara stopped at a half-twirl and looked toward the sound. Underneath them on the ramparts, Duck was crawling to the railing so she could see. With tremendous effort, she pulled herself up and managed to get on one knee. She gasped out loud.

An army of toy soldiers in red uniforms was sailing to the castle from the tower in little boats. In the boat at the head were Autor, Malen, Rue, and Uzura playing her drum! And holding her in his arms was Fakir!

"Fakir!" she couldn't help crying out.

"Look out, Duck!" Mytho shouted as he flew towards her. She ducked her head so he could block yet another attempted attack from Clara, who'd heard her cry. This time, Clara used her magic to shove him away, over the ramparts and into the lake!

"Mytho!" she cried out again, "Ah!"

Clara had her again by her dress front and once again she had her evil needle-sharp nails above her, poised to strike. Princess Tutu's call of "No, Clara! You mustn't!" came too late this time as she leaned over the roof and Duck screamed as she watched the nails fly down towards her…

And were stopped centimeters short of her chest.

Duck, Clara and Tutu all gasped in shock; the witch grunted with a second effort with the same result!

_"What is the meaning of this?"_ she screeched. The battle against the lake monster was still going on around them; the army of toys had joined in and Duck could hear her friends calling her.

"Why won't it work?" Clara shouted in frustration as she repeatedly tried to stab Duck, "Why can't I get in?"

Two warm gentle hands closed around hers and its stiffness melted inside them. She whipped her head up to her left and was imprisoned again in the soft gaze of Princess Tutu.

"It is because of him," she said with her kind smile. Mytho came flipping back over and hurried to grab Duck away, but Clara didn't notice.

"Him?" she repeated, "Him who?" Tutu gracefully lifted the witch to her feet, pirouetted, and transported them back to the rooftop, leaving the helpless maiden under the prince's protection.

"Princess, I beseech, you," said Clara, "Who are you talking about?"

"Long ago, a man released a story into the world," Tutu answered as she danced, "The man has died but his spirit carried over into his last story. You have sought this man for some time. You have read and loved all his stories; their magic has touched you and entered into your ability. Everything the man ever created became a part of you until he was the only thing that mattered to you. You bound your soul to him and now you are his."

She stopped in front of Clara and lifted up one of her hands.

"That is why you cannot kill her," she finished, "That is why you feel you must obey me." She glanced past her. "And it is also why…the puppet child now commands your army. They follow your instinct of obedience to his creations and they come under her word…" She turned her around. "…and his pen." Across the rooftop Clara saw three young people—two boys and one girl. The dark-haired boy in the middle was holding a tablet in his left hand and a quill in his right; the girl on his right side wore glasses and held a large paper pad close to herself. The other boy was also wearing glasses and had a bow and arrow. They faced the witch as the lake battle came to an end. The girl spoke first.

"How do you do?" she greeted, "My name is Malen Andersen." She looked more serious than she sounded, but the two boys were grim-faced.

"We meet at last, Clara," said the one in glasses, "I'm Autor—Autor Wolfgang Kirschbaum." Clara felt almost the same instinct from him that she did from Princess Tutu, but the boy in the middle trumped everyone else.

"My name," he announced, "is Fakir Johann Drosselmeyer. I am neither your creator nor the man you worship, but I swear on my family's name: If you attempt to do any more harm, I _**will**_ be your destroyer!"

* * *

**Author's Review****:**  
I told you guys in the beginning that I'd be using "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry. If you don't like the song, well…sorry. It inspired this whole story and it's not going away.

I don't remember which music I had in mind for Tutu and Clara's dance, but I'm positive it was something by Two Steps from Hell (AMAZING MUSIC).

The name Kirschbaum is German for "cherry tree." I thought it would be cool for a Japanese character of German descent! I'm not sure why his middle name is Wolfgang; I guess it just sounded cool. I don't think I named him after Mozart.

Johann is a sexy name and Fakir is a sexy dude, so it made a sexy fit! Fun Fact: Johann was the name of Beethoven's father!

I don't know why I didn't give Malen a middle name, but I named her Andersen (obviously) after Hans Christian Andersen!

The way they announced their full names is a reference to the anime _Romeo x Juliet_. For some reason, everybody shouts their full names in a dramatic fashion in that show. It's pretty BA, I think! One of the things that appeals to me about _R x J_ and _Princess Tutu_ is that they delve into family history a bit, which is something I'm into!

So, yeah: Please review and send me kind thoughts! And stay tuned!


	14. Tutu's Grand Finale

Thanks for your patience, everybody. Those of you who read my intros and Author Notes can easily guess why it's taken me so long to update. I know mine isn't the first family to go through something like this, but up until now, we've never had anything this bad happen. We've been luckier than most families, since most of us are grown up now, but it still hurts like crazy and it'll take us a while to heal.

Also, my new job has been weird and I'm struggling with another round of Writer's Block (bleh). This chapter might be a bit shorter than others (how many times have I said that, now?), but trust me, it's going to be epic!

So I'll stop the Pity Party and get to it!

* * *

_"My daughter's been stolen by crows!"_ – Rue's Father, _Princess Tutu_

* * *

**Chapter 14: Tutu's Grand Finale**  
While Fakir and the others faced off against Clara, and while Duck and Mytho were trying to get back up to the roof, Rey was still doing battle against the lake monster with the assistance of the toy army. It screeched and tried to peck at him but it only managed to graze his arm.

"Look out!" called the voice of the princess. Rey saw her arch over him in a magical _grand jete_ with a determined look on her face; she landed perfectly in front of the crying beast and did a pirouette with one foot out that caused huge thorny vines to appear and wrap themselves tight around its entire body. The thorns stabbed it and it cried out in pain as its head came crashing to the shore. Rey jumped to her defense and did not lower his sword until the creature released its death rattle.

_"Und schuss,"_ he sighed. He grunted with pain from the impact of sheathing his sword.

"You're hurt," said the princess as she touched his arm, "Let me heal you." She closed her eyes and light glowed from the wound.

"Thank you, _prinzessin_," he smiled, "You're very kind. As for Ms. Duck, the prince has taken charge of her for the moment. We should catch up with them."

"Wait, Rey," she stopped him, "Please…tell me who you are first. Why are you so kind to me? I know I'm a princess, but it's more than that to you, I can tell! Why are you so devoted to someone you just met?" The way he was smiling at her made her stop. It was so soft, so caring, so…paternal.

"Fifteen years ago," he said, "my beautiful wife died giving birth to our first and only child. Her last wish was for me to take care of our child and love her. And so I did, for six of the happiest months of my life. But then, in the strangest way, my daughter was stolen from me."

She gasped with wide eyes and had a flashback of the memory she'd found.

"I looked everywhere for her," he continued, "I learned everything that was necessary for me to find my child and bring her home." He took a deep breath. "It took me all these years…and it caused me a lot of heartache…but now…I've finally found her…and now my baby is a beautiful princess."

The princess in question covered her mouth with tears in her eyes.

"But the sad thing is," Rey finished with tears in his own eyes, "I don't even know her name."

The princess choked as the tears gushed out; now she could see her hair on his head and her eyes in his face. She'd been so worried about Duck she hadn't even noticed.

"Rue," she wavered, "My name is Rue!" She leapt into Rey's strong arms and he scooped her up and danced around with her. Together they created what may have been the first father/daughter _pas-de-deux_ in history (at least, the first one Rue knew of).

"When the crows took you away, the villagers gave you up for dead," Rey said as they danced, "but I just couldn't. I knew you had to be alive, that the Raven would have wanted you for some dark purpose; otherwise he would've let his birds have you."

"It's true," said Rue, "I grew up believing I was a crow born into a human body. I thought the Raven was my father!" She burst forth into fresh tears. "But I didn't want to be a crow! I wanted to be a ballerina and a princess! He told me I would never win the prince on my own merits because no prince would want to marry a hideous crow like me!" Rey held his precious daughter in his arms again and she clung to him.

"He told you what he could to keep you by his side," he said soberly, "He convinced you he was the only one who truly loved you. He demeaned you and deceived you so you would continue to be his willing human servant." He turned her face up to him.

"But he's gone now," he smiled, "and you won the heart of your prince. You suffered and struggled and worked hard to earn the love of your supposed father." He held her hands and knelt to her.

"My love has been with you since the day you were born," he said with conviction, "and that is something you will never have to earn."

Rue was floored.

"Father," she whispered, threw her arms around his neck and cried, "_Father!"_

"Rue," he cried with her, "My princess…my daughter…my baby!" He stroked her hair as he held his child.

"When I think of all the things we were going to do together," he said, "the things I planned to teach you…(chuckle)…the boys I was going to chase off…" He stroked her face. "The tears I would've dried."

"They're still here, Father," Rue smiled as she wept, "and there'll be many more to come."

"No doubt," he smiled back and thumbed away one of her tear streams, "and I look forward to wiping every one of them away."

A clash of weapons sounded from the rooftop.

"What's that?" Rue asked.

"It's Fakir," Rey said urgently, "He's fighting Clara. Come!"

_"Fighting_ her?" she repeated as they ran, "But he said she wouldn't dare fight him because he's a Drosselmeyer!"

"She must have overcome her instinctive deference," he said, "She's been thwarted and it has made her angry. We have to hurry; you'll be needed soon." He lifted her into a rowboat.

"How do you know?" she asked perplexingly.

"I read ahead," he smirked as he shoved off.

* * *

Malen clung to her sketchpad fearfully as she watched Fakir do fierce battle against Clara. Autor was no less worried, but he had seen his cousin's power and knew that somehow, Fakir would ultimately win, especially where Duck was concerned. So he stood by watching with his arm around Malen as the witch and the writer met nails with sword. They locked weapons and eyes.

"I'll never let you take her," Fakir growled, "Not again. Not ever!"

"This is all your fault," she spat, "You and your cursed gift! Your story deprived me of true flesh and blood! You…his child…"

Fakir paused; her eyes were tearing up!

"My beloved godfather," her voice wavered, "How could someone of his blood do this to me? HOW COULD HE TORMENT ME LIKE THIS?" She started shining with fury.

* * *

Down on the ramparts, Mytho was climbing a ladder to the roof with Duck holding tightly to his back. They both gasped.

"Mytho, what's that?" she asked fearfully.

"I don't know," he said urgently, "Keep your head down." He kept climbing.

* * *

Fakir collapsed at Clara's feet; his sword clattered beside him and he turned his face to his right, away from where his friends were, but he could still hear Malen's cries of his name joined by Rey and Rue. Clara floated over him in anger more than in triumph but instead of bracing himself for the end, Fakir was struggling with despair. He'd managed to restore Duck, but now he couldn't protect her anymore. What would happen to her if he wasn't there? She couldn't stay here; Gold Crown was her home! What would she do after her time in school was over? Who would look out for her?

Who would dance with her?

Now _he_ began to cry. He pinched his eyes shut.

"Duck…"

_**"**__**FAKIR**__**!"**_

Her scream flew across the roof, blown by a gust of wind. Fakir's eyes snapped open and everyone looked shocked.

At the edge of the roof, Prince Sigfried stood tall with a delicate maiden sitting up in his arms.

That maiden was Duck.

The wind blew the pages of Malen's sketchbook until it came to a picture of Duck dancing as herself, not Princess Tutu. Duck moved to get out of Mytho's arms.

"Duck, what are you doing?" he asked, "You're not strong enough."

"Let me down, Mytho," she said bravely, "I can do it. I have to. For him."

Mytho finally helped her down but kept a hold on her; her first steps were as wobbly as a toddler, but she made it to First Position. The sun seemed to be her spotlight and the magic of the story granted her a soft but powerful piece to dance to, _"Intermezzo"_ from _Carmen._

The music began with a flute solo and she did pretty well by herself at first but she faltered. It wasn't Mytho that caught her, though; it was Rue! She'd smoothly gone to one knee and gracefully caught her in a ballet pose.

"Rue!" she breathed wondrously as she helped her back up with one arm out.

"Just like our first dance," Rue smiled happily. Duck's cheeks turned pink and she nodded with a smile. The flute in the music was joined by an oboe as Rue carefully led Duck through a _pas de deux_; whenever Duck faltered or wobbled on her new legs, Rue always caught her and made it look like part of the routine.

As the violins made a steady swell to a build-up and the dancing became more fluid, the light around them became brighter and more magical. Rue began to spin Duck the way she had the first time but she started to spin faster and faster with her dress twirling out and dripping magic. No one knew what was going on, but they went with it.

"Come," said the voice of Princess Tutu as Duck twirled, "Join with me once more. Become who you want to be. Dance and do not be afraid!"

"Duck!" Rue gasped. She was spinning on her own now, _en pointe,_ and as Princess Tutu!

As the music began its soft last half, Tutu made a graceful _grand jete_ and softly landed by Fakir and Clara. After magically healing his wounds, she lifted Clara's hand again and, without inviting her this time, turned her by the hip to make her spin. She danced with her as gently as Rue had with Duck. As she did, Clara began to change in short flashes. One moment she was her young and beautiful self and the next she was older!

"What's happening?" Clara asked. This time she didn't sound angry; now she just sounded…tired.

"I am setting you free," Tutu smiled with her eyes closed, "The curse placed upon you will now be lifted."

"How do you know?" asked the witch.

"Because that," Tutu answered, "is what _he_ told me."

Clara looked confused; Tutu took her hand, turned so they were side by side, and lifted their hands toward the sky.

"Please come down!" she called brightly, "She is almost ready!"

"Who…?" Clara started to ask, but then a pair of hands was heard clapping above them!

"How delightful, Princess Tutu!" came the booming chortle of the dead man's voice, "A beautiful dance of strength! Not as depressing as I would've liked, but praiseworthy all the same!"

"Autor!" Malen cried out as the old man appeared, "Who is that?" Autor put an arm around her again to steady her. His eyes were as wide with shock as Fakir's were.

"A dead man," he said, "My common ancestor with Fakir: Dolphus Drogo Drosselmeyer!"

* * *

**Author's Review****:**  
I'm not sure why I named Drosselmeyer that; it just sounded cool and they're legit German names.

I'm so sorry this took so long! Family tragedy aside, I've been dry as a bone lately and stressing over a job prospect I'm currently pursuing (again). It's making me super depressed and my inner muse has gone into hiding until the heat blows over—or, at least, til inspiration strikes again.

I hope it was worth the wait, though, to find out that REY IS RUE'S FATHER! BOOM! And I'll try to get back to you again before Thanksgiving! Y'all know what to do until then! Thanks for your patience!


	15. The Godfather or Fields of Gold

Well, once again I've come to the end of another fun-to-write, fun-to-share story. It's been an unnecessarily arduous journey with this one and I can't thank you guys enough for sticking it out with me and sharing your support and kind words.

I'll be taking a (hopefully short) leave of absence, during which my inner muse will be resting and recuperating while I help Mom get ready for Thanksgiving! I super hope you'll enjoy this revealing final chapter and I further hope you'll take some time to peruse some of my other works (I've got a couple of Christmas fics—one for Kingdom Hearts, one for The Cat Returns).

Happy Thanksgiving!

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_"I swear, in the days still left, we'll walk in fields of gold."_ – Sting, _Fields of Gold_

* * *

**Chapter 15: The Godfather or Fields of Gold**  
If Clara trembled in the presence of Tutu and Fakir, try to imagine how she reacted to the ghostly apparition floating just overhead. Every inch of her frame shook like a seizure and her youth melted from her body like snow under the sun, causing her already buckled knees to give way beneath her. Tutu managed to catch her in time and the others came running, including Uzura.

Clara, however, could see no one through her streaming tears except Drosselmeyer; her hand seemed suspended in air as she held it up toward him.

"All my life," said the witch, her voice old and tired, "I searched for you all my life! Godfather!"

"Clara," Tutu said pitifully as she held her hand.

"I'm sorry, child," Drosselmeyer shook his head regrettably, "but my true goddaughter has long since died. I'm afraid you did all this on your own: You read and loved my stories so much you let yourself believe you were mine. You dabbled in dark magic to bring yourself closer to me and in the process you hurt the children of my blood _and_ my imagination. Your magic kept you young and strong but you cannot go on in this way."

"I know," she replied, "I just wanted to see you so badly. I thought if I took on flesh and blood, I'd be able to channel my power at its best…so I could try to call you. I loved your stories so much…I wanted to meet the wonderful man who wrote them."

"Are you kidding me?!" Rue piped up, but Rey covered her mouth.

"It's all right now, my dear," Drosselmeyer said, "Your long journey is over. You can join me now…on the other side."

He reached down for the hand Tutu was holding; Clara smiled and took it. Her young spirit sprang free from her old husk and she stood in the air beside him, now in white and seeming to sleep.

"She will rest now, in the world of the spirits," said the storyteller, "It is up to you to finish the song and the story." Everyone nodded and the dead man turned and led the sleeping spirit away, leaving her frail weak body to their gentle hands. Rey knelt down, removed his cloak, and carefully wrapped her in it while murmuring a German blessing. All the while, the song of the story had proceeded to pick back up with the short instrumental break before the final chorus. By the time the chorus started, Clara was sailing alone downriver in one of the boats, which was full of white roses.

_If I die young,  
bury me in satin  
Lay me down on a bed of roses  
Sink me in the river at dawn  
Send me away with the words  
of a love song_

Tutu stood beside Fakir as they all watched the boat sail into the sun.

"This story has ended, Fakir," she said with resolution, "I will give Duck back to you now, for I am no longer needed here."

"Thank you, Tutu," he replied humbly, "We never could've done this without you. We will see you again."

"Yes," she nodded, "The next time I am needed, I will heed your call." She looked serious now. "But first, Fakir, there is something you must help Duck to understand: In the last story, it was her love for the Prince that allowed her to join with me, but that story is over now and he is no longer the one that she loves." She slipped her hand into his. "You have to tell her it's all right to confess her feelings now, that she won't disappear. She will no longer have that curse inside of her, _my_ curse. She is free now, because of this new body, free to love whom she chooses." She sparkled and glowed, still holding his hands.

"Goodbye, Fakir," she smiled, "I know you will take care of her. I wish you happiness."

_Oh, oh,  
The ballad of a dove  
Go with peace and love_

The body glowed and changed back into Duck; her hands were still in his and it was a good thing, too; she pitched forward but he caught her in a hug.

"Uhh," she sighed and looked up. She gasped. "Fakir!" She burst into tears and buried her face in his shirt as he finally, tenderly held her with a smile.

"I'm sorry we took so long," Fakir murmured into her hair.

"Duck, you're back!" Rue exclaimed but stayed back so as not to cut in.

"Duck!" Uzura ran over, "You're finally back, zura!"

"Uzura!" Duck knelt down to hug the puppet child. Rue took that as the cue to start a group hug. She threw her arms around her and rubbed her head against hers. The lamp spirit appeared and floated in Duck's hands.

"Thank goodness you're all right!" Rue wept joyfully. Malen joined in with "It's been such a long time!" Mytho went over to Fakir and gripped his shoulder.

"Well done, Fakir," he said.

_Gather up your tears  
Keep 'em in your pocket_

Autor stood on Fakir's other side.

"So I've finally seen Drosselmeyer," he mused, "Not quite what I imagined."

_'It's all right to confess her feelings now.'_ Tutu's words came back to Fakir but he pushed them aside for now.

_Save 'em for a time  
when you're really gonna need 'em  
The sharp knife of a short life, well  
I've had just enough time_

"Hello, _liebchin_," Rey smiled as he offered her his hand, "I can't tell you how happy I am to see you again."

"Rey!" she piped and accepted, "I'm so glad you're all right! Thank you for helping us!"

"Duck," Rue said happily, "Allow me to introduce you to my father!"

"WHAA?" Duck flailed her arms in surprise, "Rey's your father?! That's amazing! I mean, no way!"

Everyone started laughing and Duck joined in.

_So put on your best, boys_

Fakir bent down and scooped her up in one arm like a toddler.

"Come on," he said to everybody, "There's still one more thing to do before the story ends."

_And I'll wear my pearls_

* * *

An hour later, the young adventurers were running around in white clothes like small children in the golden barley fields under the loving and watchful gaze of Rue's father. He smiled as he watched his beautiful daughter spin around while holding Duck's hands. He saw Malen bend over to catch her breath; Autor checked on her and straightened her glasses. Rey chuckled at her blush—both of them, in fact. He laughed outright when Uzura came up and loudly asked if they were love-dovey. Autor made some kind of stammering noise, grabbed Malen's hand and ran for it. Uzura chased them while playing her drum, shouting, "Come on! Are you love-dovey or not, zura?"

The sun began to set over the field; the wind moved through the barley and the leaves of the giant oak tree everyone was lying against on a small hill. Rey had Rue's head in his lap and Rue had Mytho's in hers. Malen had fallen asleep on Autor's shoulder; every now and then he'd take a quick glance at her and smile quietly at the grass. Uzura was picking some of the stalks. Fakir, of course, had Duck and was stroking her adorably crazy hair.

"Fakir?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think they'd let me back in school?" Duck asked.

"Who knows?" he smirked, "But then, your new body is prima material. But you know…I have an extra room in the lake house…in case you're interested."

Duck blushed with wide eyes.

"Really, Fakir?" she popped. He smiled and nodded. She smiled back and her eyes shone.

"Hey, Fakir?" she ventured. He looked at her. "Um," she mumbled, "Never mind."

"What is it, Duck?" he prompted.

"Well, I," she said shyly, "There's something I want to tell you, but…I'm a little afraid." Fakir looked serious and put his hand over hers on her chest. He leaned forward to look right down at her face.

"Tutu said something before she left," he said, "She asked me to tell you that it's all right. This body is all yours, without her presence. You don't have to hide your feelings anymore." Duck looked like she was about to cry; he pressed his forehead to hers with his eyes closed and squeezed her hand.

"I was Mytho's knight," he whispered, "but now I want to protect only you. I love you, Duck. I want to be _your_ knight." He lifted his face enough to look in her eyes, which were filling with tears.

"Is it really okay now?" she asked joyfully, "I won't vanish?"

"You won't," he shook his head, "I promise and so did Princess Tutu." Duck sat up and knelt facing him, looking shy in the cutest way possible.

"Well, then," she smiled and looked at him, "I love you, Fakir."

Fakir looked modestly surprised; he kind of knew that, but to hear her actually say it was priceless. Floored by her confession and his love for her, he gently took her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly.

"Yay!" Uzura cheered and tatted away on her drum, "Fakir and Duck are love-dovey, zura!"

Still holding her cherry face, Fakir smiled happily. Duck sheepishly smiled back and held one of his hands.

"Want to go for a walk?" he invited.

"Yeah!" she nodded. He helped her up. Rue and Mytho got up, too.

"Hey, Fakir?" Duck smiled. When he turned to her with a "Hm?" she caught him by surprise with a peck on the cheek and ran off laughing, hand in hand with Rue.

"We'll be back soon, Father!" chimed the princess as she turned and waved with the boys in pursuit.

"And I'll be right here waiting," Rey smiled warmly. As he watched them run off into the sun with its light turning their clothes to candlelight, he vowed to himself that he would protect them and be their constant friend and guardian. He would watch over them from his daughter's home in the prince's castle and love them all as his own.

He turned to the last picture in Malen's sketch pad and smiled softly at it: The entire group was under the oak tree in their beautiful white clothes. The ladies all wore pearl necklaces, even Uzura, and the men had pearl buttons on their shirts.

_"Kurios,"_ he said, "I came looking for a daughter and now…" He looked up at them. "I have an entire family."

THE END

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**Author's Review****:**  
I went online and looked up "German word for 'strange'" and found a list of maybe TWELVE words! So I just went with "kurios" because it sounded closest to "curious." German students, please don't hurt me!

I didn't really expect to end it from Rey's perspective; I was actually hoping to do it from Fakir's, since he's the writer, but then this happened. Meh, I like it! What do you think?

So yeah—I'll be gone for a little while, trying to rest my creative spirit and pick up the pieces of my recent drama. I've got a few concepts brewing in my brain, but none of them are for _Princess Tutu._ If any of them make it, though, I promise they'll be as awesome as I can possibly make them!

In the meantime, please read some of my other stuff and please keep a lookout for future awesomeness! Thank you so much for your reviews and support! (curtsey) Please be happy and safe until then!

Sincerely Yours,

-samuraistar =^.^=


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